Darkness Rising Revised
by Constantine1453
Summary: Seven years after the Final Battle against Voldemort, Harry is once again pitted against the forces of darkness. This time, the darkness threatens both the Wizarding and Muggle Worlds. With romance, politics, evil!plots, laughter and action, Harry and c
1. Final Battles & New Beginnings

**Darkness Rising  
Prologue: Final Battles & New Beginnings  
Part One: Percy**

Disclaimer: Disclaimer : This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

_United Kingdom  
A Cave in Wales_

Draco Malfoy was in a very terrible mood. For the past year, he'd been forced to sleep on a cot, with several other young Death Eaters, doing the most menial of tasks. He was a Malfoy, and should have taken his place at the Dark Lord's side by now, one of his most trusted servants. Instead, he'd been here, in a set of caves, hiding and working towards a minor position in Lord Voldemort's graces. 

More than that though, he'd done thinking about what Dumbledore had said to him at the top of the Astronomy Tower almost a year ago. To come over to the right side, to fight on the side of Harry Potter, wasn't something that he'd wanted to do. He was a Malfoy of an old and proud family. But he'd watched as his mother had been tortured and killed by the Dark Lord's own hand. He'd watched as wizards, both pureblood and mudblood, were killed to achieve what end? At seventeen, he wasn't sure, but he knew that killing Muggles and wizards wasn't what he had in mind.

These thoughts had occurred to him, and he'd just as quickly squashed them. He couldn't be thinking these thoughts, not so close to the Dark Lord himself. Malfoy, the Dark Lord wants to see you. He doesn't look happy, Marcus Flints dull voice broke him out of his thoughts, and he rose and left his room. He walked to the Chamber of Graves, where all of the Dark Lord's Death Eaters would convene. Hundreds of bodies lined the walls, moving listlessly in a line, waiting to strike at anyone they were commanded to. He shivered a bit, crossed the rock floor, smoothed his pale blond hair out, and knocked on the door. It swung open, and he entered.

"My lord, I-- Draco began, but he was cut off as he suddenly found that no air could reach his lungs. He stiffened, trying to breathe, his hands clutching his throat.

You have been chosen tonight for a very special mission, young Malfoy," Voldemort replied, and with a wave of his bony hand, blessed air flowed into his lungs as he sucked in deeply, doubled over, his body heaving in air. He asked himself, not for the first time, why he had wanted to join the Death Eaters if it meant personal pain. Those thoughts were quickly pushed aside, as family honor and loyalty came first. "Join us, Lucius," Voldemort motioned the elder Malfoy forward. His father looked physically fine, until Draco noticed his eyes. They were bloodshot, and lines appeared around his usually smooth corners.

"Young Malfoy," Voldemort said, "tonight you have an opportunity to redeem yourself after the lack of initiative that you've shown as my main operative at Hogwarts last year. You have a very specific task tonight. Keep the students together. Do not fail, or your punishment will make _this_ seem a day in the park." Draco began to form a question, but one look from his father silenced him. Voldemort appeared not to notice, his chalk-white face and red eyes glowing in the dim evening light. "Yes, my lord." Draco answered instead, and Voldemort nodded, leaving Draco and his father alone.

"Draco, do not fail tonight. I cannot impress upon you enough that it is your failure that caused our Lord's hand to move sooner than it should have. It is your failure that has brought our quest to rid the Wizarding world of Muggle influence to the brink of destruction."

Draco stood his ground defiantly, knowing that he would be punished, but knowing that he had been right a couple of weeks before. There was a difference between killing Mudbloods and killing purebloods. "Father, Weasley's death would have served no practical purpose--" he was cut off as pain seared through his body. His father's work left no marks, but he knew that he would be hard pressed to sit down later tonight. 

"Do not question me," Lucius spat out at him, getting close to Draco, warm flecks of spittle hitting his face. "Do what you've been told to do and perhaps you will survive the night. Fail and even I cannot save you. Gather your team together and get to Hogwarts. We'll attack within an hour." Lucius walked away in disgust after that.

Draco groaned as he was released from the spell, and began to shake out his muscles. This had happened before, but tonight was different, he thought to himself. He walked back to his room, and raised his voice to pull people together. Pansy Parkinson and several other Hogwarts students who had left during the year were lounging around the room, no trace of what was to come on their faces. Alright, we're going back to Hogwarts. Now. Draco told them, and they all stopped and stared at him as if he'd suddenly turned into Potter. The Dark Lord is attacking tonight, just before the end of the year feast. Without Dumbledore, McGonagall hasn't been able to keep the school together, and it will not take long for our forces to knock the school out, and destroy Harry Potter and the Ministry. 

Draco felt the mood of the room become more and more excited. He was going to lead them, he was going to be welcomed at the Dark Lord's right hand...he was simply going to survive the night. His ambitions became less and less great as he thought more about it, and he made the decision then and there to betray the Dark Lord. If he could get away with it, and Potter won, then he would live, and perhaps be able to prosper. With the Dark Lord, survival was the only option.

Although the cabinet that he'd brought through the Death Eaters last year had been sealed, a Portkey to the Room of Requirement could be made easily. he said, and with a wave of his wand, a copy of _The Death Eater's Survival Guide_, glowed green for a moment. Draco looked around. Everyond was ready. Marcus Flint had his mask on, but the others did not by unspoken agreement. Marcus, take your mask off, Draco told him sharply. When we fight tonight, we fight honorably, as purebloods. Marcus nodded, and removed his mask.

There were eight in his group, along with him. They crowded around the Portkey, and grabbed the book. Three, two, one, he said, and they were pulled to Hogwarts and into the Room of Requirement. He sent them off in twos, and told them to hide for thirty minutes, when they would regroup, and enter the Great Hall, just before the Dark Lord arrived. Draco and Goyle were left in the room, and they quietly exited.

Hogwarts was never quiet, but students were mainly absent from the halls tonight. They must be down at the Feast, Draco thought, just as he detected a pair of feet coming towards him. He pushed he and Goyle into a darkened classroom, and waited to see who it was.

_Just what I need,_ Draco sneered to himself, adjusting his robes, _Potter_. If anyone had told him when he was younger that Harry Potter was the most ordinary boy on the planet, he wouldn't have believed him. He had thought Harry to be a giant among wizards. The reality was quite different. Just a slightly short, average, bespectacled boy whose black hair looked as if he had just gotten out of bed.

"Why aren't you at the feast, Potter?" Draco spat out as he boldly entered the corridor. Harry stopped dead in the middle of the corridor, whipped his wand out, and pointed it at Draco. He was shaking from rage, his green eyes almost glowing with hatred. Draco thought maybe that he'd miscalculated in talking to Harry. I thought that you'd never come back here, Malfoy. I've waited a year to find you. It'll be nice having one less Death Eater to fight. Harry began a spell, but Draco stopped him. Potter, listen carefully, before you do anything. Do you remember what Dumbledore said last year, just before he died? Harry stopped, and Draco could see recognition dawning on Potter's face. He wasn't nearly as stupid as he looked.

Yeah, I remember. What about it? Harry said, his wand still at the ready. Draco looked over his shoulder. He'd told Goyle to hide in the closet, and he could see the door was open a fraction of an inch. Draco said as loudly as he dared to I'm changing sides. Harry looked stunned for a minute, and then nodded. He really had changed over the past year. The attack's tonight. In a half-hour, Draco told him, and Harry gripped his wand so tightly you could see the whites of his knuckles. Harry nodded and strode away.   
_Of all the people for me to see tonight, Harry bloody Potter had to be the one_, Draco thought, and pulled Goyle out of the closet. They had only a few minutes to get to the Great Hall before the attack would come.

_London, United Kingdom  
An Abandoned Warehouse_

A few hundred miles away, in a warehouse just outside London, a man sat stooped over a computer terminal, typing away furiously. A single bulb cast a harsh light on the tall, lanky man, his blond hair balding. He was an outcast, a Squib, sent away some forty years ago by his family. Tonight, if all went as planned, he could finally begin to rejoin the society that had cast him out so long ago.

Insistent beeping from the decoder broke him out of his thoughts, and he hurried over, and slowed the machine down. Readout on the screen told him all that he needed to know. Small strands of his DNA were missing a key trait that would give him access to the Wizarding world. Walking to the refrigerator, he pulled out three vials of blood, taken from pureblood wizards, or so he was told. It was a simple process then of feeding the information from the decoder into the splicer, where the tubes began to whirl, and the blood began to break down, leaving the Wizarding genes for him.

For a brief moment he considered what he was about to do. He wavered over turning all his research over, about killing himself. He had come close a couple of times, but the shame of separation, of knowing that he wasn't good enough as a Squib pushed him back towards sanity, towards working to end the separation between Squibs and purebloods.

He poured the genetic mixture into a bag, and hung it from a pole. Quickly strapping his arm down, he pierced his skin, and inserted the I.V. Shortly thereafter, the solution began to drain into his blood stream. He could feel the new DNA mixing with his own, inferior genes, and forcing the new code over old. It was painful, and thin beads of sweat began to pour down his face as the transformation continued. It was almost as if he could sense the magic pouring into his body, making him perfect. When the solution finished draining, he pulled the I.V. from his arm, and quickly put gauze over his wound.

He stumbled over to his terminal; he seemed half-drunk with magic. His very fingers tingled, and the terminal screen wavered as he typed his log entry. Magic was supposed to interfere with technology, and here was proof! Although these effects would fade with time, he started to laugh, a deep, wondrous laugh that echoed off every beam in the warehouse. Thirty years of work culminated into tonight, and he was going to enjoy every minute of it.

Finishing his log entry, he shut the computer off, and walked to the light switch. He flicked the lights off, and left the warehouse. A dog barked in the distance, and the oily smell of industrial parks filled his nostrils. He did not care at this moment, because at this moment he had gone from being a Squib to being Magical, with the help of Muggle technology. He started his car, letting it warm for a minute, and then set off, not looking back, in search of Malfoy Manor, a home he had not seen in fifty years.

Tiberius Malfoy was coming home.

_Scotland, United Kingdom  
Hogwarts Castle_

It was the end of a long school year, and on the night before the Hogwarts Express was to take everyone home, the castle and the students within all let out a collective sigh of relief. Harry sat with Hermione and Ron, his two best friends, at the Gryffindor table. The Great Hall was decked in the house colors; all four, McGonagall had decided. This was a victory dinner, because for weeks now, there had been no sign of Voldemort or his followers. After the attacks on Diagon Alley, Voldemort had been assumed killed. Harry smiled at something Seamus was saying, and pushed his glasses back onto his nose. After his encounter with Draco, he was more than a little shaken. It was no secret that Draco was a Death Eater, but Harry hadn't seen him in a year, nor heard his name in the _Daily Prophet_. It was too much to hope that he would have been killed for not killing Dumbledore. Harry sighed, and played with his mashed potatoes. It had been a very long year, with attacks from both within Hogwarts and without.

The waste of Colin Creevey had proven that. Colin had taken a student hostage earlier in the year, and killed both the first-year and himself in an attempt to prove his worth to Voldemort, that he too believed in Magical supremacy. It was not your background that made you, but your choices.

McGonagall stood up, and tapped on her glass, silencing the room before him. "Another year gone. Let us raise our glasses in honor of our fallen students, whose courage in the face of horrors has been unparalleled." Harry raised his glass, and began to recite a list of names in his head. Lily Potter. James Potter. Cedric Diggory. Sirius Black. Ruebius Hagrid. Susan Bones. Albus Dumbledore The list went on. Hermione looked at him with concern, and she reached out and gave him a hug.

"Harry--" she began, before a dark look from Harry silenced her. He had to do this, to remember the dead.

"For all of those students who will be returning next year--"  
McGonagall continued after a long pause, "Remember--", what exactly, she never finished as a huge boulder smashed through one of the huge arched windows into the middle of the Great Hall. Three others quickly slammed against the side of the building. Students began to panic, and teachers did their best to send students deeper into the castle to protect them.

Harry looked to Hermione and Ron and the rest of the seventh year Gryffindors, who looked more determined than anything fearful. Other students were taking cover as best they could, as three gigantic, ugly trolls entered the side of the Great Hall, followed by almost a hundred dementors.

He felt the temperature of the room drop considerably, and struggled against the screams that threatened to overtake him. Harry shouted "Expecto Patronum!" and watched as a beautiful stag, shiny and silver shot out of the end of his wand and began to gallop around the room, chasing the dementors away. Other students and teachers had the same idea. Silvery white shapes filled the room, and the defenders rallied.

Harry dove as one of the benches was swung at his head by a troll, but Hermione blasted off a string of curses that sent the troll crashing to the ground. Former Hogwarts students, led by Draco Malfoy poured into the Great Hall from the open entryway, and began to herd the students into the center of the room.

Dean Thomas and Zacharias Smith ran over to Harry, Hermione and Ron, slightly out of breath. "Harry, what do you want us to do now?" They asked, and some of the other D.A. members looked to him for leadership. Harry threw his eyes to McGonagall, who nodded. "Get the rest of the students to the tunnels. We've got to help the professors keep whatever else is out there--"

Like McGonagall some minutes before, Harry's words were drowned out by a section of wall being ripped away from the other side of the Great Hall. Clouds of mortar and plaster billowed up from the collapsing wall, sending most of the students to the floor, coughing. Twenty Death Eaters entered, robed and masked, and began to shoot green death from their wands. Harry watched as the members of the D.A. reacted, but his focus was taken away by the tall, pale figure striding towards him.

"Harry Potter..." a high, clear voice whispered out, filling his head. "We meet again, and for the last time." Voldemort raised his wand, and Harry watched as the Killing Curse shot out of the end of it, and flew straight for Harry. He reacted, throwing himself over a table. "Yes, this is exactly as it should be, Mister Potter. I will kill you now, and take back what is mine." Harry looked around quickly, seeing if there was anything he could do to stop Voldemort. Curses flew at the Dark Lord, and his shield repelled them, sending them off to do damage in all directions. 

Harry took one of the plates full of food, and tossed it at Voldemort, hoping that it would distract him for just a second. A perfect plate of steak, potatoes and peas slammed into Voldemort, who had hesitated for one brief second. Harry took this opportunity to shout "Expelliarmus" and Voldemort's wand flew out of his wand and into Harry's. Harry raised his wand for another spell, but he was suddenly unable to move.

Lucius Malfoy had stunned him. Harry could only watch helplessly as both his and Voldemort's wand were taken from him, and handed back to the Dark Lord, who approached with an evil fire burning in his eyes.

_Scotland, United Kingdom  
Hogwarts Castle  
_  
Draco had pulled his team together some minutes before, and was waiting for the trolls to attack. A resounding crash and the castle shuddering pulled Draco into action as he moved his team forward into the hall, catching students who had been trying to escape. The Great Hall was in shambles, with curses flying everywhere, the great house tables splintered, and the entire hall filled with screams. A part of Draco got a high from it, but part of his was replused, and he knew that this was not the way to win. Another way would have to be found. He fired curses off, left and right, but one, from Granger caught him off guard, and he stood immobilized by a group of trembling first years.

"Harry Potter... I have waited seventeen long years for this moment. How does it feel, knowing that you, like your parents will die in a futile attempt at stopping me?" Voldemort couldn't resist taunting Harry.

"My parents died to save me! As long as there is one wizard who defies you, their death is not futile!" Harry spat back angrily.

"Your words are brave, Potter, but words alone cannot stop the tide of history! Dumbledore is now gone, killed by one of my loyal servants. The staff of this school killed as well, trying to free their leader some ten minutes ago. When you are dead, no one will stand in my way!" Voldemort shouted, motioning the Death Eaters holding the children towards him. Harry's face hardened, but there was no way for Draco to know if Potter believed Voldemort.

"The Ministry--" Harry began, but Voldemort stopped him. 

"At this very moment, the Ministry is in flames, destroyed by the remainder of my army. I tire of this game, Potter! _Avada Kedavra_!" Voldemort shouted, and a green light shot out of his wand, speeding towards Harry. One of the Mudbloods pulled out of his captors' arms, and jumped in the way of the beam, falling to the ground, lifeless.

Draco couldn't believe that the first year would willingly die for another, especially one like Potter. _What did Potter say?_ Draco thought to himself, _you are not just a product of your background, Malfoy. Is all of this worth it? You have a choice tonight. Think about it_. What did Potter mean? His father, his proud father, stood beside a madman, who would kill an enemy while he was helpless. His father stood there, watching, waiting on his Master's word, while the Malfoy line, the ancient and proud line was dragged through the mud. He thought about the Mark on his arm, knowing that Muggles should not be part of the Wizarding world. Were the destruction of the Muggle world and the domination of the Wizarding world worth it?

A Death Eater freed him from his bonds as the final battle between Voldemort and Harry raged in front of him. Harry was holding something aloft, a marble it looked like, and Voldemort redoubled his attack, Harry barely holding onto it. He threw it up in the air, and fired off a string of spells that reduced the marble to dust, floating in the wind. Suddenly, Voldemort gasped.

Draco took a step forward, pointed his wand at Voldemort and screamed "Expelliarmus! Finite Incantatum!" watching as an aghast Lucius Malfoy turned furiously towards him. He saw out of the corner of his eye that Potter had been freed, and was scrambling toward his wand, while Voldemort was doing the same.

Lucius and Draco began to exchange curses, hexes and spells, each of them more deadly than the last. The Killing Curse was never used on another family member, out of tradition, but everything else was open. Curses Draco had never heard of came out of Lucius' wand, and Lucius was impressed with the level of skill that Draco had achieved.

A horrified shriek came from the center of the room as Voldemort was caught in several spells at once, and one of them broke through his shields. Draco saw that his father was distracted, and shot a Bug Curse at him, which he caught too late. It only was active for a few seconds, but Lucius' body and face began to boil with bugs--crawling, burrowing and leaving permanent scars. Draco took a step forward, horrified at what he had done, but Lucius stepped away, shooting white sparks in the air, and pressed his right hand to his arm. Moments later, only shocked and dismayed students and teachers remained in the Great Hall, a dusty haze settling over everything. He knew that it would be a long time before he was trusted, but at least Voldemort was dead.

_Wiltshire, United Kingdom  
Malfoy Manor_

Tiberius stared up at the darkened Manor he had once called home. The magic had finally been too much for the car, and he had abandoned it a quarter mile or so away. He stared up at the imposing structure, turrets, battlements and corridors framed against the inky-black sky. Malfoy felt at home here, even if it had been forty years. He knocked on the dragon knocker, once, twice, and the door swung inward with a creak. As well as he could remember, the Library was on this floor, in the East Wing. "Hello?" He called out, listening carefully for an echo.

A light blinded him, and he found he couldn't move. His heart raced faster, and he heard footsteps enter the room. "What do you want, Muggle?" A voice that could only be the second son's called out to him. He blinked a couple of times, trying to clean his eyes. "My name is Dr. Tiberius Malfoy and I am no longer a Muggle." That was, he figured, a good enough place to start.

"What do you mean you are no longer a Muggle?" The voice was a pleasing baritone.

"I mean--" he began, but an alarm sounded, and he never got to finish his sentence. He felt his feet being lifted off the ground, and he was floating deeper into the Manor. A coin was pressed into his hand, and suddenly he felt himself swirling, being pulled somewhere else. He just hoped that the second son of the Malfoy family was bright enough to recognize the power that he had created.

A/N: Please review. If this story looks familiar, it's because I took the Darkness Rising' plot, expanded it, and have begun a rewrite. Many thanks for editing & care go to Tabitha, my faithful beta of a year. Chapters will appear once every two weeks, on Friday or Saturday, so look for them. If you wish to be notified by e-mail a couple of days before the next chapter comes out, drop me a line at Let me know what you thought, what you think is coming next, etc. I like to keep you guessing. Please review!


	2. Keeping Up Appearances

**Darkness Rising  
Chapter One: Keeping up Appearances  
Part One: Percy**

_London, United Kingdom  
High Street, Diagon Alley_

Percy Weasley, Junior Undersecretary to the Ministry of Magic, took a bite of his toast, which was piled high with jam. Ceremoniously, a large droplet of the sticky blueberry jam fell onto his new robes. This, like every other Monday, was not going to be his day. It took only a moment to restore his robes to their previously pristine condition, but it was an omen. Oliver Wood, his flat mate for the past five years, sniggered.

"Another Monday, huh Perce?" Oliver asked, chuckling behind his latest play book. He was burly from playing Quidditch as a Keeper, and three seasons ago had been moved to the first string. Today was an 'off' day, but Oliver kept his training, and he had told Percy last night he would be busy for most of the day. Percy didn't answer Oliver's query; instead he transfigured the egg that Oliver was absently reaching for into a piece of limburger cheese. Oliver took one bite, and his face scrunched up. He spit the cheese out, and muttered "Twerp," to Percy, who smiled sweetly. Oliver stretched up, and Percy's eyes wandered over the firm muscle that lay on his arms.

Mornings were like this, usually. Percy loved sitting in the quiet apartment with Oliver at this time of the day, discussing plans, and not letting the stresses of the world intrude. This morning, however, Oliver seemed a little nervous, and kept looking at the clock. He didn't want to be late, Percy assumed.

The clock on their wall rang the eight o'clock hour, so Percy got up, and took his dishes to the sink. "I'll be home later, Ol," Percy told his friend, before grabbing his robe and flooing to the Ministry. 

"Good Morning Mister Weasley, may I see your wand please?" the guard asked politely. Percy handed over his wand, while the guard cast a blue shield around the wand, checking to see if any illegal spells had been cast using his wand. No red droplets squeezed out of the end of his wand, as Percy knew they wouldn't, and the guard smiled, and handed Percy back his wand. "All clear. Have a nice day, Mister Weasley." Percy thanked him and walked away quickly.

He spoke to no one on his way to Level One, taking little notice of the swarms of memos flying around his head at this early hour of the morning. There was something odd about Oliver's behavior last week, he thought, he kept disappearing after dinner. He tried to pull everything together, but couldn't. Percy arrived at Level One, got off the elevator, and walked into his small office.

A stack of papers lay on his desk that were just settling in for him to look at, and he sighed. Another Monday, he sighed to himself, and settled into his hard wooden seat. _Dear Minister Arnold,_ the request began, _I am a witch on Wisteria Lane_... Percy began marking the letter in red ink, dipping his quill as needed. The time began to flow by as he picked up a second, then a third request.

"Weasley?" a knock broke him out of his pattern. He thought that he recognized the voice.

"Yes?" he answered, not looking up. 

"The Minister wants to see you." Percy finally looked up. "Hello Penelope," he said, looking at his former girlfriend. Her hair was pulled back harshly, and she had a stern expression on her face. "I didn't know you were working for the Ministry."

"I was hired last week. Let's go," she said tersely in reply. It hadn't been a good breakup, and they hadn't seen each other since then. Percy followed her into Minister Arnold's office, where she left him with Kingsley Shacklebolt, the head of the Aurors and the Minister. Arnold was a Moderate, someone who valued Muggle and Magical cooperation, but who also wanted the two worlds to remain separate. He'd been Percy's pick of the candidates.

"Weasley, good. Would you like some tea?" Percy nodded, and poured himself a cup of tea. Arnold pointed out a green overstuffed armchair for Percy to sit down in, which he did. Percy sipped on the tea, which was a bit bitter, but swallowed it down. "I need you to go to Vienna for a couple of weeks, to oversee the preparations for the **I**nternational **C**onfederation of **W**izards (ICW) meeting to be held in July. They've asked us to help with the security arrangements, and I'm sending you with the spells."

Percy nodded, his mind already thinking of what to pack. He'd never been to Vienna before, and hoped that Oliver wouldn't mind having the flat to himself for a couple of weeks. "Well, what do you say?" Arnold finished, and sat back in his chair. 

Kingsley turned to Percy. "You've got to know, Weasley, that if you accept this mission, you will be traveling by yourself, as to not attract attention. There are several terrorist groups that would like to interrupt the meeting, and these codes would allow them to do that."

"What's so important about this meeting?" Percy asked, fingers tapping on the chair. He was curious about it; after all he would be helping to oversee part of it.

Arnold looked at Shacklebolt seriously for a long moment, frowning, and Percy was afraid he had misspoken. Shacklebolt nodded.

"Weasley," Arnold began, and he folded his wizened hands on the desk. "What I'm about to tell you cannot go beyond this room. The various Ministries of Magic are going to discuss the possible unification of magical resources."

Percy was confused. "To what end?" 

Arnold tapped the edge of his desk with his wand. "The Muggle world and technology is becoming more and more invasive into our daily lives. Several other ministries feel as if pooling our resources is the only way to save the separation between the Muggle world and our own." Suddenly it made sense to Percy, and he nodded. "I repeat Weasley, will you do this?"

Percy nodded. "Yes," and both Arnold and Shacklebolt smiled, and relaxed a little bit. "When do I leave?" He asked, curiously.

"The case is here with the spells," Shacklebolt began, "and you can make the one o'clock Floo out of Heathrow if you hurry." Arnold finished.

"Why are we rush--" Percy began, confused as to why they were in such a rush. 

"We are getting you there so that the security arrangements can take place in a timely manner. Some of these spells are time sensitive. Furthermore, I cannot take too lightly the effect that these terrorist groups might have on the meeting if they get a hold of these spells. We've heard rumors of Neo-Death Eater activity around London, but nothing substantial yet. Be on your guard, nothing more," Shacklebolt finished, and Percy stood.

He was proud that they trusted him; finally he could show the powers that be that he was capable of larger and more important tasks. But he was also nervous. Death Eaters should have been finished after their final attack on Hogwarts. A new group of them did not bode well. "Thank you for this opportunity, Minister." Percy told them, took the offered case, and left the room.

His office was only a couple of doors down from the Minister's, and he quickly gathered his things and left. He was smiling, finally he could do something that allowed those in power to trust him. He could use this to vault into the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, a position that would bring greater responsibility, and a bigger office. His was getting cramped, after all.

Percy arrived at the main level of the Ministry, and walked toward the people queuing up for the Floo entrance to Diagon Alley. He waited his turn, ignoring the stares he got from some of his coworkers; Percy never went home early, and here he was, smiling about it.

"Heading home, Mister Weasley?" The attendant asked him as he flashed his worn Floo pass. Percy nodded, smiling. "A bit early to be leaving for the day, isn't it?" the young man said.

Percy replied "Is it?" mysteriously, and a moment later he said "Percy Weasley's apartment!" into the fireplace, and stepped inside, careful not to get his robes dirty.

He let the fireplaces whirl around him, making sure to count correctly. At the twenty-eight, he stepped out of the fireplace, and brushed himself off. Percy was humming to himself, and almost didn't catch the sight of a nearly naked Oliver Wood on the couch, with someone under him. He shook his head and blinked a couple of times, confused. Looking again, he saw that this someone under Oliver was nearly naked as well. His stomach began to flit dangerously around, and he couldn't think.

"Perce, this isn't what it looks like," Oliver told him, pulling his pants up as he did so. Percy couldn't help but notice Oliver's firm chest, and how the sparse hairs on his chest all went in the same direction. He was still confused. The under the Oliver had red hair. Short red hair. Percy moved so he could get a better look. His eyes opened wide, and his mouth dropped.

"George? Oliver, what is this? Is this some sort of prank, George, because if it is..." Percy began, dropping the two cases he was holding. What were his roommate and his brother doing shirtless together on the couch? And why was George's hair a mess?

"Percy, look--" Oliver began, but George cut him off. 

"Percy, no, it's not a prank," George told him, sighing. "Ol and I are dating."

"You mean...you two are...you do..." Percy took a deep breath, and calmed himself down just a little bit. "Alright, look. I'm going to close my eyes, and count to three, and open them again, and this will have been a nightmare. And it will be over." Percy closed his eyes, and counted to three as slowly as he could manage. He said to himself several times "Please be gone, please be gone, please be gone," before he opened them again.

George and Oliver were still there. "Percy," Oliver started, "I'm sorry that you had to find out about it this way, but I'm glad it's out in the open. But more importantly, why are you home early?"

"Oh no, this is not about me, Oliver Wood," Percy said, "damn-look at the time. I've got to make a one o'clock out of Heathrow. I'll be gone for a couple of weeks." Both boys frowned as he went into the bedroom and began rummaging around for clothes. Ten minutes later he came out again, more composed this time. He grabbed a pinch of Floo powder and turned to them. "Look, I don't necessarily approve of what you two are doing; the Wizarding World needs more wizards. But, it's not my business. Just don't do it in front of me, alright?" Percy glanced over Oliver's frame one more time before disappearing in a crackle.

"I think my brother's jealous of me, Ol," George said with a grin, before pulling Oliver back on top of him.

_Wiltshire, United Kingdom  
Malfoy Manor_

Theodore Nott was not particularly handsome, having a thin face and a gangly frame. His hair was brown, and his eyes shifted from side to side, assessing everything that was happening around him. However, Nott was intelligent, pureblooded, and loyal, a fact that made him particularly valuable to Draco Malfoy. Malfoy had hired him just after they had left Hogwarts, and he occupied a suite of rooms at Malfoy Manor.

Nott strode down Diagon Alley purposefully, startling witches and wizards who got in his way. Gringotts bank was his destination, and around his neck hung the Malfoy family vault key, polished and ready to be used. He barely halted as the goblins pulled the doors to the bank open to admit him. Walking quickly, his shoes made a rapping noise against the marble floors as he walked to one of the high teller windows and expected to be helped.

The goblin sitting there glanced down at him, and continued working, sorting out gemstones large and small. Nott coughed, as he was clearly not to be kept waiting. The goblin kept working, however, ignoring him. Nott placed the Malfoy key on the teller's partition, expecting that this would move things along; however it did not. "I am Theodore Nott, goblin, and as personal secretary to Draco Malfoy, I expect--" The goblin finally looked at him, and he was not pleased.

"You will find, Mister Nott, that here at Gringott's, we care little for who you are in the Wizarding world," the goblin answered him. "I assume everything is in order, since Mister Malfoy is not here to verify the transaction?" Nott nodded, and told him what he wanted.

Minutes later, he was holding onto the sides of the rickety cart, speeding down the track, past the hundreds of vaults beneath Gringott's, until the cart stopped suddenly at vault 751. The goblin clambered out, and motioned for Nott to follow him. Nott took the key and placed it in the goblin's knobby green hand, and watched as the vault opened, exposing the treasure inside to the light.

Hundreds of thousands of galleons glittered back at him, as his face lit up against the ruddy gold. There were several rooms in the vault; a smaller one off to the left held heaps of rare gemstones. Nott began filling three sacks; two with gold and a smaller one with gemstones. He tied them, and waved them up with his wand, setting them back in the cart.

When they arrived back on the main floor of Gringott's, Nott took hold of his withdrawal and walked out the bank. He disapparated from Diagon Alley with a word, and appeared moments later in Draco's rooms in Malfoy Manor. They were conservatively decorated in dark greens and blues, and Draco Malfoy was standing at the base of his armoire, deciding what to wear. It was four o'clock in the afternoon, and Draco had just gotten out of the bathtub. "Being a wealthy pureblood allows me to do such things, Nott," Draco was fond of saying to him.

"Draco, I have the money you requested." Theodore Nott began, and Draco's blond head popped out of the closet. 

He smiled greedily, and ran over to him, clad only in boxers and a dressing robe. "Good!" Draco told him, grabbing the money away and spilling it on his desk. "This should take care of most of the expenses. Contact Peter Pritcher at the Cannons and set up a meeting."

"Yes, Draco," Nott said, leaving the room. He headed for his own chambers, stopping under one of the arched windows along the third floor corridor. Draco Malfoy was buying the Chudley Cannons! He thought to himself, and started laughing softly. Lucius would be _so_ pleased to know that his son was spending the family money on Quidditch.

_Vienna, Austria  
Outside the Hofburg  
_  
Percy stepped out of the International Floo Station near the center of Vienna just as shaken as he had left his apartment some hours before. My roommate is dating my brother? He asked himself, thinking of the scene of Oliver standing over his brother. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable with it; after seeing a goblin and a Veela walking arm in arm, or at least trying to, this was normal. Then what was bothering him?

Something clicked at that moment, but he couldn't necessarily say what it was. Shaking it off, he gripped the briefcase and his backpack tightly, and set out from the Floo Station in search of the Hofburg. Vienna was an old city, however many of the buildings dated from the latter part of the 19th century. The gothic spire of Saint Stephen's tapered gracefully above the city a short distance away, and Percy headed towards it. There were many people on the street in the mid-afternoon, and he had to jostle his way through the crowds.

He was supposed to meet someone across from the Hofburg; they would then lead Percy down into the ICW headquarters. Percy sighed as he looked at St. Stephens Cathedral, and rested a moment, leaning against one of the buildings, taking in the huge edifice before him. Oliver Wood is dating George. It was a realization; he supposed that had been long in coming. Any conversation about a girlfriend, even at Hogwarts, had been diverted, and Oliver had never really gotten along with Penny either. He wondered what his mother would say if she knew that George was dating Oliver, but supposed she would find it wonderful, and offer him another muffin.

Sighing, he went on his way, cutting across one of the side streets, and passing down a row of exclusive shops. There were even more people, if that were possible, and he found it slow going. He hiked his backpack up over his shoulder again, looking behind him as he did so, and found a man dressed in a black robe a bit back from him. Am I near the Wizarding section of Vienna? Percy wondered, continuing on. He turned the corner, and faced the grand entrance of the Hofburg, less than a tenth of a mile away.

Percy began to look for his contact; he was told that it would be someone he'd recognize. Seeing no one immediately, he pressed on, ignoring the crowds around him. Suddenly a mop of black hair, unruly as always, started to walk over to him, as best that he could, considering there were so many people out this afternoon.

A wand at his back stopped him. Percy froze, and he began to panic. "I am--" he started, but was silenced. A husky voice whispered in his ear, "We know who you are, why you're here, and if you're smart, you'll come quietly." Percy began to struggle, and some of the people on the street stopped to stare, and Percy could see the contact struggling to get through the crowds to him. If only he could fight for a few moments longer, he might be rescued.

However, this was not to be. Percy felt his hand closing around a Portkey; it was all he could do to stare into the eyes of Harry Potter, his contact, as he was whisked away, with a pull of his stomach.

They arrived in a pitch black room. There was no light anywhere, and Percy felt his lunch start to come up. He forced it down, even though he was deathly afraid of the dark. Percy felt his legs and arms being shackled, and a crank being pulled, tightening them until he was stretched just a little bit above the floor.

"Who are you? What am I doing here? I demand--" Percy stopped speaking as the room flooded with light, a light so bright it burned his eyes, even when he shut them tightly.

"You demand what, Mister Weasley?" An abrasive baritone voice asked him. "I don't think you're in a position to demand much of anything at the moment." Percy forced his eyes open, blinking to clear them as tears from the lights rolled down his cheeks. He gasped at what and who he saw standing below him. "We want to know where the information is about the wards. They're not the in briefcase, and I think you'll tell us where they are really," a cloaked figure told him, face buried deep within the black folds.

"I-I don't know," Percy answered honestly. If they're not in the briefcase, then where could they be?

_Wiltshire, United Kingdom  
A Pub  
_  
A wide smile crossed Tiberius's face, thinking about the change about to happen in his life. Seven years ago, he had been an outcast, seeking to reenter a world that had rejected him, and he had done so. From that night, his brother had educated him on the ways of the Wizarding world, and he had refined his techniques in his own scientific arts. Today would see the first step in the plot that they had hatched to gain control of not only the wizarding world, but through magic, the Muggle world as well.

"So Adrien, what's the news?" Tiberius asked his assistant, who had hurried in to the room with the final results from his district. There were three hundred people arranged around the room, all of whom were waiting for the word. It had been a hard campaign, with Iraq, immigrants, and a host of other issues before the various parties, but Tiberius had established himself as a skillful debater and one whom even his most bitter rivals believed wouldn't fail the people of Wiltshire.

"Mister Malfoy, you won with 53 of the vote!" A great cheer broke out over the room, and Tiberius found himself smiling even wider. The plan was set in motion. He stood before the crowd, and clasped his hands above his head in victory.

"Fellow Conservatives, I have the distinct pleasure of serving you in the House of Commons until which time Blair decides that he's had enough. I will work towards a stronger Britain, both here and abroad. I will oppose any attempt to weaken the proud history of this country with every power available to me. Every enemy must be pursued with equal fervor, and dealt with appropriately. Thank you, goodnight, and God Save the Queen!"

Tiberius Malfoy grinned, and raised his arms again. The crowd began cheering once again, thrilled that they pulled off a victory. The party lasted well into the night, and Tiberius couldn't wipe the smile off of his face the entire time, as he thought to himself, _By the time that we're done, brother dearest, these muggles won't know what hit them._

_Vienna, Austria  
Outside the Hofburg_

Harry Potter had been out on that corner for ten minutes before he spotted Percy, and started moving towards him. He was dressed in Muggle clothes, and tried to fit in with the crowd, even if people his age were a little hard to come by. The crowd pressed around him, and he started jostling his way towards Percy, sensing that something was wrong. A cloaked figure stood behind Percy, and Harry watched as he froze. Something was very wrong here. Someone knew who was coming, and what they were carrying. Harry himself hadn't learned until this morning.

Harry shouted, and several people turned. He rushed forward; pulling out his wand, but not ten feet from Percy, the pair disappeared. "By Merlin," Harry cursed, angry that he hadn't been able to get there faster. Several people had stopped and wondered what was going on; conversations in several languages broke out. With several quick movements, Harry obliviated their memories of the event. He stepped to where Percy had been, and kneeled down, palms resting on the cobblestones, looking for anything that might lead him to Percy.

In his surprise, Percy had dropped his wand, and it lay not two feet from Harry's hand. Harry quickly pocketed it, hoping that Miranda could locate Percy through that. With a growl of disappointment, Harry found nothing else, and he stood and pushed his way to the traffic circle, crossed it, and made his way into the 700-year old palace of the Habsburgs.

There were far fewer people in the Hofburg; a couple of small groups of tourists from America gaped at the neo-baroque ornamentation around the entryway. Harry flashed a badge at the guards standing at the doors, and they opened the door for him. _This place has over two thousand rooms_, Harry thought to himself, _and they have to put us in the basement._

He found his way down an unused corridor, the white walls slightly dingy from discoloration. At the end of the corridor stood a plain wooden door. He tapped his wand against the doorknob, and it swung open. Harry pulled on a cord, switching on a single light bulb above him, and he began to descend into the basement of the palace.

Harry pushed himself, running down the stairs as fast as he could. Maria Smith, an American witch, stood up as he came towards her, and he passed by her without a word. "Potter? Potter?" She called after him as he ran faster now. Upstairs he had to play the citizen, but there was work to be done here, and no time to waste. He pushed open a final door, and the headquarters of the International Confederation of Wizards lay before him. Harry breathed slightly heavily on the landing, and looked for Halitos Zinker, his boss.

He spotted him at a work station across the cavernous room, and ran towards him. Zinker was a tall man, and very muscular. As Harry came over to him, he looked up and frowned. "Where is Weasley?" Zinker asked, folding his arms under his chest. Harry swallowed, and caught his breath.

"He's been kidnapped," Harry told him, and handed Zinker Percy's wand. "This was all I could find." Zinker stared at it for a long moment, not saying anything. Harry blamed himself for losing Percy, and swore to himself that he would find him, no matter what it took.

A/N: Please review. Many thanks to my wonderful beta Tabitha. We're in for quite the ride, so please sit back, relax and enjoy it...and don't forget to review for me. Reviewers of the Prologue were: Spirit Mornea. Thank you for reviewing! Once again two weeks will pass before Chapter Two comes out, entitled Weasley Family Meeting. That will appear on ff.n on Sept. 2nd, so look for it!


	3. Weasley Family Meeting

**Darkness Rising  
Chapter 2 - Weasley Family Meeting  
Part One: Percy**

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**  
**_Ottery St. Catchpole, United Kingdom  
The Burrow_

Molly Weasley stood at her kitchen window, fussing at the gnomes that continually plagued her vegetable garden, when the grandfather clock rang loudly through the house. She turned quickly, and walked over to it, looking up at the face and reading the hands. Percy had gone from 'working' to 'traveling' and now was facing 'mortal peril,' something that hadn't been seen on the Weasley Clock for seven years. Her heart began to race, and she fished in her apron pockets for her dark willow wand. The fact that Percy had gone to 'mortal peril' was not a good sign, as Percy had always been the least dangerous of the entire family.

Dragging over a stepstool, she tapped the heads of Arthur, Ginny, Fred, George and Ron, saying as she did so 'Weasley Family Meeting.' Bill and Charlie were out of the country, and could be told later. This had been put in place so that the Weasleys could convene and discuss important family matters quickly. Molly set out to prepare a feast; for if it was a Meeting, the family would be hungry. _Then again,_ she thought, _Weasleys are always hungry_. She pulled cheese and meats of the ice box, and told the knife to begin to slice bread. _It will be alright, Molly, just calm down_, she told herself, trying to stay busy so she would not think about what Percy might be going through. They had worked too hard to put this family back together to let Percy go without a fight.

An "Ooof!" from the living room told her that one of her children was back. "Hello mum," Ginny told her mother, coming into the kitchen, kissing her mother's cheek and starting to help her. "Hullo, Ginny," Molly replied, carrying a tray of food into the living room. Ginny was a reporter for the Daily Prophet, covering the Wizengamot. She was fiercely independent, although her mother was constantly trying to set her up with some available wizard. Ginny had one tonight with Justin Fitch-Fletchley, after her mother had begged her to at least go out on one date.

"Where is Justin taking you tonight?" Molly asked once they were seated, her hands constantly moving around the couch, fixing things.  
She was clearly nervous, and couldn't wait for the rest of the family to come. 

"He's taking me to Pierre's, mum. What's going on that we needed to have a meeting? You didn't expect all of us to come home just so you could ask me that. I nearly-- She fell silent as her mother pointed to Percy's hand. Ginny gasped, and rushed to her mother.

"What's going on mum?" Fred asked, after he apparated into the room.

"Percy," was all Ginny could say. 

George appeared a few minutes later, and ran his fingers through his hair, his faced a little flushed. He went to the clock, looked at the hands, and sat down on the arm of one of the chairs, next to Fred, and made himself a sandwich. Ron and Arthur came out of the fireplace ten minutes later.

"Molly, why did you need us?" Arthur asked his wife. Molly stood, her children looked concerned, and held onto each other for support. 

"Percy's in mortal peril, Arthur," she told him, trying to fight the tears that sprung to her eyes. He closed his eyes, shoulders slumping. _I'm getting too old for this,_ Molly thought to herself as she sat down again, holding Arthur's hand for support.

"So, what are we going to do?" Fred asked. A long silence followed, as each family member thought about what to do. 

Finally Arthur said "I'll go ask Shacklebolt at the Ministry. He'll know what's going on. I heard a rumor that a messenger to the Confederation was sent today, but I don't know what that would have to do with Percy."

Arthur stood, and flooed into the Ministry. "Why doesn't everyone go outside and de-gnome the garden for a bit? It could use some help, and I think we all could use a little stress reduction." With that, the family went outside, and with gusto, began to de-gnome the garden. Fred and George took pleasure in swinging the gnomes as far as they could, and drew Ginny and Ron into a contest.

Ron won, throwing the unlucky gnome all the way out to the main road. Just after he had done so, Arthur came out to the garden, and slumped down onto the bench. Everyone ran over to him, and Molly hugged him tightly. "Kingsley said that Percy was the messenger with the spells. They asked him this morning, and he went. Their contact at the ICW told the Aurors that Percy had been kidnapped from right under his nose," the last words were forced out. It had been hard getting the family back together after Ron's fifth year, but there they were. Molly didn't want to lose any of her children, to anything.

"So what are they doing about it?" Ginny asked, her body tense and ready to strike at anything.

"Their contact has Percy's wand, and is working on finding out where he is."

"Who's his contact?" Ron said. His father's eyes shifted to his own.

"Harry Potter," Arthur told him. Molly immediately felt better, knowing that Harry was personally looking for Harry. Ron looked a little stormy. "What is the Ministry doing about it?" he asked impatiently.

"Nothing, yet. Shacklebolt said that there would be a team of Aurors heading to Vienna tonight to meet with him and assist in the search. Percy is a British wizard, after all."

"I've got to be on that team, dad." Before anyone could say anything more, Ron disapparated from the garden with a 'pop.'

_London, United Kingdom  
Ministry of Magic_

Ron apparated to the Ministry of Magic, so focused on finding Percy that he almost splinched himself, something that he hadn't done in three or four years after a particularly full night of drinking. He headed to the Auror offices, pointedly ignoring anyone who tried to speak to him. Ron marched into the offices where walls creaked with photographs of suspects, and memos flew around over his head.

He had no idea that Hermione Granger, his ex-wife, had entered behind him. His brown eyes focused on Kingsley Shacklebolt, who regarded him seriously from behind his dark face.

"I want in," Ron demanded, folding his arms. "I'm not going to take no for an answer." Shacklebolt looked confused. "Want in on what, Weasley?" His boss answered him, leaning against a column. Ron hesitated; his father had said that there was an assistance mission leaving tonight. But Shacklebolt was playing dumb. He opened his mouth to reply, but a lilting alto replied from behind him.

"He wants the same thing I do, Chief, a spot on the team that's leaving in fifteen minutes." Ron whirled around at the sound of his ex-wife's voice. Hermione Granger-Weasley stood there, bushy hair pulled back, her hands placed on her hips. "Don't play dumb with either of us," Ron thought it best to let her handle things. He smiled at her; even after being separated for a year and a half, he still had some feelings for her. "We know more about the contact than anyone else on the team."

Shacklebolt sighed. "That is exactly the reason that I'm not sending you, either of you," he looked from Hermione to Ron. "Besides, Weasley was your brother, and I don't want that to cloud your judgment in any way. Now go home, both of you." Ron and Hermione both remained where they were. "If you don't leave now, you will regret the consequences!" Shacklebolt said angrily. "Fine, if--"

"Sir?" A voice interrupted him. Ron watched him walk to the messenger and he was very, very glad that his boss had been interrupted. But he wasn't about to let his brother be kidnapped without trying to do something. 

The two of them whispered back and forth for a minute, and finally Shacklebolt said "Fine!" loudly enough for both Ron and Hermione to hear. They shared a knowing look before he walked back to them, shaking his head.

"You both must know someone very powerful in the ICW, because of all of my Aurors, they especially asked for the two of you. So instead of three, we'll send five. Tonks, Dicey and McSwinney will go with you," he told them, clearly unimpressed. He led them into a smaller room, where the other three waited for them. Adrien McSwinney was average -- not too tall, not too short, average weight, in fact, he was completely unremarkable. Ian Dicey was tall, but hunched over; his nose was far too long for his face. He was the best tracker the  
Aurors had.

"If you will all grab the shoe in the middle of the room, you'll be sent on your way," and they all did so. Tonks was sporting black hair, with a tight black t-shirt and plaid pants under her robes. Ron and Hermione both smiled at her. They grabbed hold of the shoe, and felt the tugging sensation pull them towards Vienna.

_Vienna, Austria  
Somewhere Under the Hofburg_

Harry rushed into Miranda Nicholson's lab, a small, white space, totally devoid of any and all personal items. She was a small witch who regarded Harry from across the room, her expression unreadable but her lips pursed together. "What can I do for you, Mister Potter?" She drawled, folding her arms underneath her chest. "I was in the middle of a very important spell. Didn't you see the 'do not disturb' sign? What could be so important that you must interrupt--?"

He fumed inwardly; he so wanted to say something, but held back because Nicholson was a temperamental woman, and if you upset her, you could forget about working with her for quite some time. Unfortunately, time was the one thing he did not have. Harry placed Percy's wand down on the metal lab table where it clattered to a stop in front of her. "I wouldn't have disturbed you unless it was critical. The owner of this wand has been kidnapped. I need you to run a homing spell on it, please."

"Why didn't you just do it yourself?" Miranda picked up the wand, and placed it upright in a ceramic wand stand. 

"Because I knew that you'd be able to find him. My homing spell only tells direction. You can tell location, or at the very least, area. Please, Nicholson, this is critical. If we don't find him, then..." Harry let his voice trail. Her eyes widened in surprise, and her demeanor changed.

"Then I'm glad you brought this to my attention. I will find him, Potter. Be back in twenty minutes," she told him. Harry nodded, and left the room, walking back to his desk.

_I can't believe I lost him,_ Harry told himself, fiddling with a quill. He felt miserable; since he had lost Percy, it felt like a worm was eating the inside of his stomach. Although it had only been a couple of hours, Harry was still riding on adrenaline, and probably would for quite some time. People passed his desk, saying nothing, but looking a little bit sympathetic towards him. They all knew, as he did, that he would fight until Percy was safe. He got an idea.

The Pensive Archives were located on the third level of the Confederation headquarters. Fifty shelves sat groaning with the pensives of a thousand different wizards and witches. These were the Pensives of current members of the ICW; there were ten thousand in storage. Harry nodded to the attendant, who followed him as they wove their way to case seven, shelf five, and the attendant pulled Harry's Pensive down. It was made of granite, and as the man held the bowl, Harry whispered the incantation and pulled the afternoon's memories out and let them drop into the swirling mix. It glowed for a few seconds, and then faded away.

"Do you wish to view anything, Mister Potter?" the attendant said.

"Yes, it may be very important," Harry replied, and helped take the Pensive to the middle of the vast chamber, and hefted it up onto a small wooden pillar. He pulled his face towards the Pensive, and thought about the afternoon. Harry felt his feet rushing towards his face, and a moment later, he was inside his memories.

He stood at the corner, watching himself look around. Percy turned the corner, and moved as fast as he could against the crush of people. Behind him, Harry saw the man wearing the cloak push forward, moving closer and closer to Percy. Harry walked with himself towards Percy, and with a motion, stopped the scene. He came as close as he could to Percy, and looked into the hood of his assailant.

"_Perscribo!_" Harry said, and a thin blue wash bolted out from his wand, coated the scene, and pulled back into his wand.

Harry pointed his wand up at the sky, and felt himself coming up.  
"Did you find what you were looking for, Mister Potter?" Harry nodded, thanking the man. He left the room, looking at his watch. Twenty-two minutes had passed.

Miranda was waiting for him at the door, Percy's wand in her hand. "Potter, I've got to tell you, wherever Weasley went, it wasn't very far. Probably still inside the city itself. I got the impression that it was a sacred space, but more than that, I couldn't say."

"Thank you," Harry said, and walked away. _Sacred space?_ He thought to himself. _Like there aren't fifty churches within a five mile radius._

He wound up in a room divided up by clear glass panels. Several other people were in there, working on various projects. He took a blank panel, and threw up the image of the man that he had taken from his Pensive. Harry stared at it for a long time, trying to think of who it reminded him off. The figure was skinny and tall. His eyes seemed a little wary of what was going on. Harry pulled the image down, unsatisfied. Along one wall stood a huge card catalogue, used to categorize all known witches and wizards.

He tapped the topmost drawer, and it slid out. With a word, the image slipped into the catalogue, and began to search the files. It went from drawer to drawer, a faint blue light shining out into the room. The search stopped suddenly, and out popped a drawer. A card stuck up, surrounded by a blue nimbus. Harry took it; it was clean and crisp. Harry's green eyes widened in surprise at who it was.

Neville Longbottom's picture smiled up at Harry. "What? This can't be!" Harry exclaimed aloud. Noel Swarthson, a wizard from the Accounts department walked over, visibly distressed. "Potter, I told you last week, unless you keep quiet in here, I'm going to--" Harry walked away from him, tuning him out.

Harry hadn't seen Neville in two years; the last Harry had heard he was working as a botanist in Dover. He was lost in thought, and stumbled into Zinker, muttering "Excuse me, sir," before moving to his desk.

Zinker replied "Potter, these are people sent from the British  
Ministry of Magic at my request; I thought that since they knew him, they would be able to help you find him." 

Harry sighed. I've found some interesting things, boss. I--"

"It can wait, Potter. You've been at this enough today, and they just portkeyed halfway across Europe." Zinker walked away, taking three others with him, Harry noticed.

"Hello, Harry," a voice that sounded distinctly like Ron Weasley's. Harry looked up. "Ron, Hermione?" he exclaimed to them, elated. Ever since he had come to Vienna he had felt like he was missing something. His two best friends pulled him into a hug; whatever came next, they could deal with together.

_Vienna, Austria  
Under the City_

It was dark. It was almost as if his captors had thrown a pot of ink into his eyes and the blackness hadn't gone away yet. He had no idea how long he'd been hanging there; several hours, probably. Time had no meaning without any reference points. At one point he had even tried shouting, but it was as if no sound escaped his lips. Trying to pull his chains, he simply tore into his wrists.

His eyes were open, he knew that much. He was hungry, he knew that too. He was in pain. He was alone with his thoughts. Percy had tried to think of where the key for the spell pages might be, what it might entail. He had a nearly perfect memory, but nothing that he could think of triggered anything. More and more though, he thought of Oliver.

It was enough to bring tears to his eyes. Alone, stripped of his defenses of lack of time or lack of interest, he realized that he loved Oliver. And maybe he always had. His mind flew unbidden back to the last day of sixth year, when they were packing up their things.

The day was warm, and Oliver had his shirt off, his smooth skin glistening in the warmth. Percy was nervous; he had folded, placed, decided that he didn't like it, and repeated that process with a pair of pants three times. Oliver chuckled, and Percy stopped, pushed his glasses up his nose and asked "What?"

"Perce, you've folded those pants three times. Something's bothering you -- what is it?" Oliver said, and put his arm over Percy's shoulder, drawing them together. Percy was very aware of the warmth of Oliver, about how good it felt to be comforted, how wonderful Oliver looked backed up against the bedpost.

"It's nothing, really," Percy said, his rational side now taking over, screaming that this wasn't in the plan, that this shouldn't feel this good. "I'm just exhausted from exams," Percy lied. He hated lying.

Oliver put both his strong hands on Percy's shoulders, and looked up into Percy's eyes. "Percy, whatever it is, you can tell me. We're mates, right?" Percy was very aware of the fact that they were alone, that practically no one else was in Gryffindor Tower at all. "Oliver, I--" he started to say, wiping his palms on his pants.

It surprised him a moment later to find a pair of lips covering his own. It felt good; more than that, it felt right. But Penny--

Percy pushed Oliver away. "I can't, Oliver. I won't...I mean, I'm not...I mean...I just can't. Penny is too important to me." Oliver nodded, and went back to packing his trunk. Percy stood motionless in the middle of the room for a moment longer, then returned to his trunk, the moment lost.

And now I may never get it back, he thought as the reality of the situation sunk back in. A wave of despondency hit him, and tears slowly fell down his cheeks. _If I get out of here,_ he promised himself, _I have to tell Oliver how I feel, even if it costs me my friendship with him. I can't go on like this anymore._

Suddenly, Percy was blinded, and he cried out in pain as his eyes teared up even more, shut tight, just to keep the light out. It seared him, and it felt like he couldn't breathe. The light dimmed to a more acceptable light, and he was able to see a little bit. He blinked, and his vision cleared a little bit. What stood before him could only be described as a monster, and he gasped.

It was Lucius Malfoy, but a Lucius Malfoy like none that he remembered. What was once an aristocratic face was now pockmarked with half healed scars. His left eye was shut completely, and he was stooped, and had to walk with a cane. He was angry. Very angry. He lifted his other hand, and Percy's world went blessedly dark.

He awoke sometime later, and the noxious smell of rot overtook him. Percy was in pain. "Now Percy," Lucius whispered in his ear, "I think you're going to tell me everything that you know about the Ministry of Magic's plans to help defend the upcoming Confederation meeting," Percy shivered in spite of himself. "And I think you're going to tell me right now."

_Vienna, Austria  
Near the Hofburg_

It was nearly midnight, and Harry, Hermione and Ron sat in one of Vienna's coffeehouses, exhausted. They had been sitting there across from the Hofburg for almost five hours now, talking. Harry knew that there had been tension between Ron and Hermione, leading to their breakup again--this time, Hermione had said that Ron wanted a family, and she wasn't ready for one yet. Since she had to bear the children, Harry tended to agree with her. Most of all, they caught up, slipping back into old patterns.

A dark figure walked past the window. Harry almost ignored it, but something about the way that the figure walked made him take notice. He slid out of the bench, went to the door of the coffeehouse, and looked out. Hermione and Ron were behind him.

"What are we looking at?" Ron asked, peering out of the glass. "I think that was Percy's kidnapper," Harry told them both, and quietly pulled the door open. The man had reached the end of the block, and was about to turn, when he was hit with a Stun spell, and fell over with barely a sound. Harry, Hermione and Ron moved forward, and turned the man over.

Neville Longbottom stared back at them. Ron spoke first. "Whoever this is, this is not Neville. I had lunch with him last week."

"I agree," Harry told them, looking around, making sure that no one was watching.

"We need to go inside and pay, Harry," Hermione reminded him. He gave her some Euros and sent her inside. When she came back, Harry told both of them to be on the lookout for Muggles, lifted up the man, whoever he was, with a Levitation Spell. They made their way across the now-empty streets, and quickly into the Hofburg.

It was a quick trip down the stairs into the ICW, and the mysterious man was placed in a holding cell. Once there, and secured, Harry woke him. He was chained to the wall, and could barely speak. Runes inscribed into the bars made it impossible to escape magically.

"Who are you?" Harry demanded, his voice hard. Ron and Hermione looked ready for murder as well. Over dinner, Harry had filled them in on what they knew, and what was going on. This would be an important break.

"Harry, I'm Neville. I don't know what you're playing at, but I don't like it very much," Neville told them, trying unsuccessfully to break free of the shackles.

"Neville Longbottom is a botanist in Britain," Harry said, pacing around the prisoner. "If I were to owl him tonight, then he would say that he was safe in his bed, and not here." Neville looked around, now a little bit intimidated. "Harry, I came to Vienna for a conference. I arrived late this afternoon, and--"

"Hermione, go to the cabinet and pull out the Veritaserum." She hesitated just for a second, and Harry glared at her. Now was not the time to develop cold feet. They needed those spells, and the Ministry needed Percy back. "Give him three drops. Ron raised an eyebrow. Three was a very strong dosage. Neville, or whoever he was, resisted as Hermione entered the cell, opened his mouth and dropped three droplets in.

Neville settled down after, and his eyes glazed over a little bit.  
"Is my name Ron Weasley?" Harry asked, making sure that the potion had taken effect. "No," the man answered, absently.

"What is your name?" 

"Bosen Higel," came the reply.

"Did you capture Percy Weasley this afternoon?" Harry asked, more quickly now. Ron and Hermione were a little more attentive as well.

"Yes," came the reply.

"Where did you take him?"

"Hotel Ananas, and we met Lucius Malfoy there," All three of them looked at each other. This was a bigger problem than before, now that they had a name to go with the crime and someone behind the crimes themselves. Malfoy hadn't been heard from for seven years, and Harry wanted it to stay that way.

"Ron, Hermione, we need to get Zinker down here, and our team together. Tomorrow morning we search the Ananas from top to bottom," Harry told them, and they agreed. "Until then, however, I think it would be best if we got some sleep. Higel, drink this," Harry handed his prisoner a steaming goblet of Sleeping Draught. Within a minute, he had fallen sleep, snoring quietly, slumped forward. Harry told them where his flat was, and they apparated to it. Harry scrawled off a quick message to Zinker, telling him of what they had learned, gave it to Hedwig, and sent her off to find Zinker.

"We've got to get some sleep," Ron said. "We've all had a long day, and it's important that we are at our best tomorrow."

"Agreed," said Harry, pulling out blankets and pillows for them.  
"Hermione can have the bed, Ron and I will take the floor." He looked at his two best friends, and sighed, letting the stresses of the day bleed out into the flat. They came together, hugging one another, being one another's support. For the first time since Percy was kidnapped, Harry truly felt as if he could find him. The trio stood there for a long time, not moving, until Hermione yawned. Laughing, they all crawled into bed. Harry turned the lights off, and less than two minutes later he was asleep.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait - I've been so so busy with school and such. Many thanks to my wonderful beta Tabitha for all of the work that she does. Please leave a review for me. I'm hoping to have the next chapter out in the next couple of weeks, so look for it! We've got quite a bit planned, oh yes.


	4. A Frustrated Harry

Darkness Rising  
**Chapter 3 - A Frustrated Harry  
Part One - Percy**

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.****

_Vienna, Austria  
Somewhere Under the Hofburg_

Zinker came to Potter's desk and he had put down his cloak. Nothing was more important that getting Percy Weasley back. And if what Harry said was true, the ICW had a bigger problem on their hands than they knew. "Tell me how you found him, Potter," Zinker excitedly demanded of Harry. Harry stood, excited and seemingly ready to start searching for Percy. "We should wake the prisoner, Zinker," Harry said to him, and started to move. Zinker realized that he wouldn't get much out of Potter unless the younger man had been satisfied. Harry did explain on the way down to the cells, however, and that satisfied Halitos.

Bosen Higel lay against the wall, unmoving, but breathing. Zinker folded his arms, and sighed. This was a bigger problem than he had anticipated and one that he definitely did not relish dealing with. "Wake him," he ordered.

Hermione pointed her wand and said, "Ennervate," and Zinker watched as the prisoner stirred from sleep.

"Name," Zinker said, his voice whipping out and hitting Higel, who flinched.

"Bosen Higel," came the tired reply.

"Where is Percy Weasley?"

"I dropped him at the Hotel Ananas."

"What room?"

"407," Zinker paused when he heard this.

After conferring with Harry, he said, "Get a team together, and be ready to leave in fifteen minutes." Harry nodded, and left. Ron and Hermione followed him out, leaving Halitos Zinker alone with the prisoner. He moved to the bars of the cell, and curled his fingers around them, feeling the cold iron below.

"Who do you work for?" Zinker asked, his voice like the iron he held. "Lucius Malfoy," replied Higel. The questions went on like that; apparently there were still traces of the Veritaserum in his system from last night. The one question that Higel didn't know the answer to was the most important. What exactly did Lucius Malfoy want with Percy? Zinker thought he knew the answer, namely for the codes-it was after all the only thing that made sense to him, but he wasn't sure.

Fifteen minutes later he stood in front of Potter's assembled team. Potter was there, as was Weasley and Granger. Tonks and the rest of the British group stood off to one side. Alexis Tostov, a Russian wizard, leaned against the wall, watching everything. _It would have to do,_ Zinker told himself. "Look, we want room number 407. Potter, take Tostov and Granger and use the Invisibility cloak to scope out the room. Weasley and Tonks, we'll keep watch, to make sure that no Muggles see what's really going on. Unfortunately, we don't have a lot of time for this."

"Zinker, Nicholson said that Percy was in some sort of sacred space; might we start there?" Potter asked.

Halitos Zinker was not, at the moment, in the mood for questions. "Potter, we'll track the apparation signature of Malfoy. We know whose wand we're dealing with, and it's not going to be that difficult." He held out a portkey, and they all took hold of it.

The six of them landed on the fourth floor, and immediately wands were drawn. "Room 407 is down that way," Zinker told them. They hardly noticed the thick, plush carpeting of the corridors, or the wall sconces that burned brightly at eight in the morning, but they were focused on every Muggle that might pass by them.

"Granger," Zinker whispered, once they were in front of 407, "say housekeeping."

"What?" She exclaimed. Ron shook his head, and opened his mouth to explain.

"Just do it!" Zinker told her.

"Housekeeping!" She said cheerily, then she and the three men got under the invisibility cloak, disappearing from view. A minute later, a very, very bleary eyed man in striped pajamas opened the door and looked both ways, before closing it again in a huff, muttering to himself about damn maids and the queer hours they keep.

Zinker and the others took their places, scanning the corridor for signs of magical activity. Some minutes later, the door to 407 opened again, and then closed by itself.

"I could have done without your face against my stomach, Tostov," Ron told his team mate, who was significantly shorter than he was. "If you were not so tall, Weasley, that would not be problem," he replied in a thick Russian accent. Zinker silenced them with a hard look. "Well, Potter?"

Harry stuck out his wand, and pointed to the north-west. "He went this way," Harry told them, and he led the way down the stairs. The morning was bright, sunny and the Muggles bustled around them, on their way to their jobs, not knowing what was happening. The neo-renaissance architecture soared above them, but they ignored it, instead following Harry as he wound his way deeper into the Old City. The streets got a little bit closer together, and the buildings became more baroque in style. Harry's wand began to vibrate a little bit as they walked, and he picked up the pace just a little bit.

People began to look at them, strange as they were, Zinker noted, six people in cloaks, one with a wand out, running down the street in the middle of the morning. If he'd been watching, he'd have laughed. As it was, this was not a laughing matter. Harry slowed down, not far from the Hofburg itself, and Zinker groaned when he saw what building they were standing in front of. St. Stephen's Cathedral, in all of its Romanesque glory stood before them.

_Vienna, Austria  
Somewhere Under St. Stephen's_

If someone had told Percy even twenty-four hours previously, that he would be stretched out, unable to feel anything beyond a dull pain in his limbs or stomach, he would have laughed in their face. Now, he could barely keep his eyes open. His cell was small, not a whole lot bigger than the contraption that he was in. A door was off to one side. He had no idea what day it was, what time it was, nor did he really care. Percy would have given anything to get out of there.

The door opened inwards, and Lucius Malfoy strode in, furious. He raised his wand, and curse after curse hit Percy, and he began to scream in pain. "Are you some sort of bait, Weasley? Are you meant to trap me here? And you lost me a valuable servant! I don't like being set up!" The last was a screech, and Percy's world went blessedly black.

Percy awoke, groggy. A small bug, about the size of a small ant skittered up the outside of his pant leg though, and he felt it go under his shirt. Its legs pinched him as it climbed, coming out at his neck, and he tried to pull his neck away from the bugs climb.

"Weasley, it's no use to try and escape from my little pet here, she won't leave off once she's got you. And she definitely has you. Now, I'm going to ask one more time, what do you know about the spells that defend the ICW?"

Percy thought, and thought hard, trying not to focus on the small black six legged creature waiting at the base of his neck. "I was told to bring the case to the ICW, where I would be met by someone. I don't know anything more, I promise you! There is nothing more to tell... I..." he began to babble on, before Lucius silencioed him. "Enough, Weasley. You clearly have no idea what you are talking about. For that, you have only one fate, I'm afraid."

Percy turned his head, and watched helplessly, flinching as the black bug climbed up his neck, and into his ear. He felt it go inside, squeezing it's way past the ear canal, and into the brain. He felt it push against his skull, fighting for room. Percy felt its pincers open, and a slow pressure began to build up on a small portion of his brain. "Weasley, I've fed you to one of the most delightful creatures known to the Dark Arts, the Mind Bug. It feeds on one thing and one thing alone - the brain. In forty-eight hours, you will be only a memory as the bug eats your brain from the inside out. I hear it's very painful," the last said with a laugh. He walked to the door, and it swung open. "I, of course, have no idea what that must feel like. But you will get to know my Mind Bug intimately. At least until your death," he said with another chilling laugh, closing the door behind him.

Percy felt the bug in his head move, and a jolt of pain flashed through his body. He thought of Oliver, and how he would never get to see him again. He thought of his mother and father, how he'd disappointed them, then gained their trust back, only to die in some Merlin-forsaken place. He thought of his brothers and sister. Thoughts flew up at him, some of people and places he hadn't thought of in years. It's over, he thought to himself, a team trickling down his face. Despair washed over him, and he began to sob.

_London, United Kingdom  
Just off Diagon Alley_

Percy hadn't sent word of his safe arrival, like Oliver thought that he would; instead there was silence. He hadn't thought that his dating George would be that big of a deal -- it wasn't as if he'd planned it, after all. It just sort of happened. And he was happy. Maybe not as happy as he would have been with Percy, the neurotic, obsessive, wonderful roommate of his, but he was happy. He looked out his flat window, onto the few wizards venturing out, dressed up and going places. George was supposed to come over tonight, but he hadn't heard from him since late yesterday afternoon either.

A faint sparkle in the air was the only sign that George was about to apparate into his flat. A stocky, muscular redhead popped into view a moment later, and Oliver rushed up to him, kissing him soundly. The kiss was returned, but there was a definite edge of nerves underneath it. He pulled away a little bit, and looked down into those brown eyes, frowning. "What's wrong?"

George leaned into him, and squeezed him just a little tighter.  
"Percy's been kidnapped. He--" George continued, but Oliver heard none of it. Percy's been kidnapped, he thought to himself, unsure of quite what to do. His stomach dropped, and he pulled George close, holding onto the slightly shorter man. All of his life, he'd played Quidditch, and could expect certain things out of the game. His personal life operated in much the same way, except for Percy's rejection of him. He hadn't seen that one coming. When he'd moved out his parent's house, Oliver had found him a few weeks later, drinking, alone, at the Leaky Cauldron. Oliver had taken him home, and helped him back on his feet. By unspoken agreement they'd never spoken about the end of Percy's sixth year. They'd moved in together, and life went by. A part of Oliver was still with Percy, and always would be. And now...

"Ol?" George interrupted his thoughts. He felt comfortable with George, the way that the redhead traced his freckles, didn't ask for much, and was easy to be around. "We're having a family dinner tomorrow night. Mum's asked for you to come. Says that a roommate of a Weasley is as good as family."

Oliver nodded. "Sounds great," he told George. They pulled apart. "Ron's gone to Vienna to work with the ICW. We don't know much more than that, Ron will send word at some point, I hope."

"Doesn't Potter work down there?" Oliver asked.

George thought about this for a minute, and then smiled. "He does. I'm sure he'll know something about this. We can write a letter tomorrow night if we've not heard back from Ron." Oliver immediately felt better. Though he knew Harry, and had seen him fall off a broom several times, he always got up, so, the Boy Who Lived could be trusted to save Percy.

They kissed, Oliver's arms wrapping around George's strong back.  
This felt good, felt right, felt...empty, he told himself honestly. "I'll be back in a few hours, Ol," George said, "I need to pick up a few things at the flat. Fred and Katie will be there later." His boyfriend pulled away, and waved goodbye. In a flash he was gone, leaving Oliver alone in his apartment.

The sun had just dipped below the roof line of the buildings opposite his windows, and cast streaks of golden sunlight into his apartment. He sighed, and flopped down onto the couch, fiddling with one of the cushions absently. Percy's been kidnapped, he repeated softly to himself over and over again. He couldn't believe it. How anyone could hurt the man who was his roommate, and someone who, although he'd talk a fierce talk, wouldn't really ever hurt a gnat, was beyond him. Slowly, anger built inside of him. Anger towards the Ministry, for letting him go on this by himself, anger at whoever took him, and most of all, anger at himself, for letting Percy slip through his fingers. If anything happened to him, he didn't--he pushed that thought of his head. Percy was coming back. The ICW would find him.

He would come back safely. He would. And when he did, Oliver would be waiting for him. And he would never, ever, let him go again.

_London, England  
Offices of the_ Daily Prophet

Ginny walked furiously into the cramped offices of Prophet Corp., the parent company of the Daily Prophet, among others. The reek of old newspapers assaulted her nose every time she stepped into the building, but tonight she hardly noticed it. That disastrous lunch date with Justin was enough to stifle anything; would her mother ever learn that at this moment in her life she wasn't willing to settle down and get married? Dinner had been postponed to lunch, but it had taken every trick in her book in order to do so. She sometimes felt as if she should 'pull a Weasley' and just get on a broom and go somewhere else, like Australia. The wizarding community there was nice enough.

Ginny sighed as she waved the correct spell to get onto the Reporter's Floor. The stairs snapped into place, and she trekked up. Another reason she hardly noticed the smell was because she had the bright idea to write an article about the kidnapping. She'd been working on it all afternoon; all of her Ministry contacts had given her hints of official word, but mostly she got no comment.' But sometimes, just sometimes, a 'no comment' meant exactly the opposite. For tomorrow evening's issue there would be a carefully worded editorial that slammed the Ministry of Magic for failing to support Percy.

She crossed the dusty floor, and sat at her desk, disturbing a few papers as she did so. Reaching into her desk, she took out a small stack of clean parchment and her Auto-Write Quill, tapped the end, and cleared her throat.

"Ginny Weasley, reporter for the Evening Prophet," she spoke, and across the page a clearly written line of text appeared, written in her passionate strokes.

**WHERE IS OUR MINISTRY WHEN WE NEED THEM?**

_ In a startling report out of the Ministry of Magic, Junior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, Percy Weasley, has disappeared. However, this fact has not alarmed the officials with whom this reporter spoke. He was last seen in Vienna, but never reported to his contact in that city, sometime early yesterday afternoon. This reporter dismisses the claim that Weasley has been under stress, and has simply taken a vacation; instead she puts forward the charge that he has been kidnapped, and taken to parts unknown._

Since the Defeat of Voldemort at the Battle of Hogwarts, and the triumph of the Boy Who Lived, the Wizarding World has enjoyed seven years of peace. Is this peaceful era at an end, when the Ministry of Magic, whom only four years ago would bend every effort towards defeating Dark wizards, now sends only a few members of their Aurors to aid in the search that could be a global one? It is a shame to think that our once proud Ministry cannot meet the challenge of finding Weasley, who is a valued and trusted member of that organization.

This paper demands that more Aurors be assigned to Weasley's case, and that no effort be spared in finding him. He is a valued member of the Ministry, and should not be a victim of the Ministry's failure.

She finished speaking, and the quill quietly fluttered to the desktop. Ginny leaned back, and read over what she had written so far. It had just the right amount of accusatory tone to it, she thought, but it didn't go as far as she could have.

"Hello Ginny," a soft voice from behind her said, and she jumped up, and spun around. "Hello Dennis," she replied, looking at the small, blond boy before her. He was part of the night crew, making sure that the newspapers were bundled correctly and ready to go by the morning. He must have seen her come up, she told herself, her heart beating rapidly.

"That's a very interesting story you have there, Ginny," he continued, his blue eyes sparkling. Dennis was nice enough, she supposed, but a little creepy. "I wonder if it shouldn't have the front page of the evening edition."

"It's just an editorial, Dennis," she said, leaning against her desk, blocking it from view. Dennis craned his neck his a little bit, and scanned a few more lines. "Is there anything that I could do to help you, Ginny?" He said, and she saw that he was gathering courage to do something. Dennis put his hand on her arm, and started to stroke it. Ginny pulled away, and whipped out her wand, pointing it directly under his chin.

"Don't ever touch me again, Creevey," she told him coldly. "Get back to work, and leave me to mine."

"Trouble, Creevey?" A very familiar voice boomed out over the Reporter's Floor. Ginny's boss, Rupert Smelton appeared above both of them, and his corpulent form made its way down the groaning stairway. "No sir," the younger boy smiled, and stepped away from Ginny. "I was just reading Miss Weasley's editorial for tomorrow's edition."

Smelton appeared interested, and hurried over as much as his bulk would allow. Dennis said his goodbyes, and slipped something into her pocket just before he left. Her hand closed around a piece of parchment that she would look at later. Rupert Smelton was one of the world's richest wizards, with a media empire that regularly printed almost five million copies per day of all sorts of newspapers, and he had a controlling share of the Wireless. He was currently reading her article and frowning deeply.

When he got to the end of it, he put the parchment down and looked at her. She met him eye to eye, afraid not to. Her hands were almost shaking, because this editorial could be the difference between finding her brother and not. "Miss Weasley, I have two things to say to you. Do not ever, ever, threaten another of my employees again, for any reason. I don't care who you are or what your part in the War was. I will not tolerate it, for any reason. Secondly, this editorial," he picked it up again, and held it carefully in his hands, "can never be published as written. We here at the Prophet are interested in facts, not speculation. If you want to write a story about your brother's _supposed_ kidnapping," he said this with disdain, "then check your facts first, and get proof."

Without another word, he ripped the editorial in half, set it on her desk, and bade her goodnight. Inside, she was seething, furious that she had been addressed down this way, especially after working here almost five years. Her hand closed once again around the parchment that Dennis had left her, and she pulled it out, opening it as she did so.

_ I know where he is. Meet me tomorrow evening in Hogsmeade at the Hogs Head, and we'll discuss it. 10 PM sharp._

She crumpled the parchment up, and left her desk. Ten o'clock couldn't come fast enough.

_Wiltshire, United Kingdom  
Malfoy Manor_

"Artimus Shot and Peter Pritcher to see Mr. Malfoy," the two men said to Theodore Nott, and he moved aside, and they entered the foyer of Malfoy Manor. The two men were impressed; as Draco always made it a point to wait for guests at the top of the stairs, and then come down to greet them. He said to them as he descended, "Very nice to see both of you. I'm glad that we could meet so soon."

They went into one of the formal sitting rooms. Fantastic birds and other animals hung on the wall as trophies of the Malfoy conquest of Wizarding creatures. Draco had not yet added his own creature yet, but he promised himself he would soon as he motioned for the two visitors to sit. Draco sat across from them, studying them carefully. "Since I called this meeting, I will tell you flatly what I want. I want the majority interest in the Cannons. A fifty-one percent stake."

Both visitors exchanged a surprised look at that. The Cannons, though a popular team, were not a winning team. "That's all well and good sir, but..."

"But why would I do such a thing, you ask?" Draco asked rhetorically. They nodded, and he continued. "The Cannons are a team to believe in and I'd like to make them winners; because I have the backing to do it..." Draco trailed off, and leaned back, a snide look crossing his face. "Because if I do it, it would piss off the memory of my father, and that, gentlemen, is enough to do anything," Draco finished.

Artimus and Peter looked at each other, and stood. "Do you have a private room where we could discuss this generous and unexpected offer?" Peter Pritcher asked. Draco waved them towards a small library nook off of the formal room. He watched them go in and close the door, whispering in hushed voices.

He smiled. There was another reason that he was doing this. Namely, it would piss off Ron Weasley to no end. He laughed aloud at that thought. Seven years ago he'd wanted a chance to clear the Malfoy name. He'd gotten that chance, and taken it. Draco had never really changed; he was still just as petty and vindictive as ever. But he was dedicated now to the manipulation of the Wizarding world economically. There was more money in it that way.

The two men came out, smiling. Draco hoped it was a good sign; the offer was generous beyond belief. It was interest from investments anyway, so what did he care? They sat down, and Artimus, the Wizard lawyer for the Cannons, pulled out a contract. He passed it to Draco, who scanned it quickly. He knew what he wanted, and everything was in order.

"Nott, go to my room and get the money," Draco ordered, and Nott left the room with a strange expression on his face, almost as if he'd eaten something funny. Draco didn't worry about it, as Nott walked around almost continuously with a pained expression on his face. "Would you gentlemen care for some breakfast?" He asked, but the two men shook their heads and declined. Nott returned a few moments later, out of breath and carrying a small satchel in his right hand. He handed it to Draco, who smiled gleefully.

With a dramatic flourish, he dropped the bag to the tabletop, and pulled it open. Thousands of galleons glittered back at him, and the two men took a distinctive lean forward, getting a good look at the gold. This isn't all off it, I assure you. But it will ensure my goodwill and begin to pay my controlling share," he said, closing the bag and handing it over.

With a trembling hand, Peter, the owner of the Cannons, took it. "Thank you very much, Mister Malfoy.I'll have the remainder of the amount owled to you in a couple of days. It will take that long just to sort through all of this."

"And that is not a bad thing," the craggy lawyer finished, knowing that he would get five percent of the sale figure in legal fees.

"So, is that everything on this fine morning?" Draco asked, standing. His guests did the same. They nodded, and bid their goodbyes, leaving him three-quarters of a million galleons poorer, but with a controlling share in the Cannons.

"Isn't life grand, Nott? It's really too bad my father isn't here to see the resuscitation of the Malfoy name and fortune, but then again, he always did arrive late to the party," Draco told his secretary. He sauntered away, marveling at what an excellent morning it was. He wished he could be there when Weasley heard the news.

If looks could kill, Draco Malfoy would have been dead less than half a second after the men left.

_Vienna Austria,  
St. Stephan's Cathedral_

Harry Potter was anxious, and paced the length of the conference room of the rectory. It was lined in a dark wood, polished to a dull shine, and Harry saw his reflection as he walked up and down its length, all of ten paces. He was angry, and his green eyes flashed at the balding man sitting at the head of the table. The deacon of the building, a kind of steward, sat there, miserable. All of his training went against the existence of wizards and witchcraft, and said that it was the devil's work. And yet...here were people that asked reasonable questions, and had reasonable demands for saving a life.

"Fine," the deacon said in a heavy Austrian accent, "tonight, after the last Mass is said at eight, you may, with your team enter and do a search. If anything is disturbed, and I do mean anything, you will be held personally responsible."

"Deacon, we can't wait--" Harry started, but Zinker cut him off.  
"That will be fine, thank you." He shot Harry a death look, which  
Harry ignored. _Percy could be dead for all we know! We need to get him out of there!_ He thought to himself, moving to Ron's chair, and holding him back. Ron had started to get up out of his chair. "Calm down, Ron!" He whispered, "We need the church!" loudly enough for the deacon to hear. The man smiled wickedly, and leaned back in his chair.

"I will meet you outside of the entrance just after nine o'clock. Do not be late. Chuss," he told them, and left the room. They followed, talking amongst themselves.

Harry left last, and looked at the sun glinting off the gold and silver colored tiles of St. Stephen's Cathedral. _So close, and yet so far. Stay strong Percy, we're coming for you._

A/N: Many thanks to my beta Tracy for all of her hard work on this, and every other chapter. Please leave a review - even if it's hey, keep going', pick something that I might have made better. Let this be a dialogue between me, the author, and my readers. The next chapter will be out in two weeks. I hope y'all are enjoying this story.


	5. Opening Moves

**Darkness Rising  
Chapter Four: Opening Moves  
Part One: Percy**

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

_Vienna, Austria  
Somewhere Under St. Stephan's_

_You've got no proof, Dad! Percy nearly shouted across the breakfast table, pounding the table, making the plates shake a bit. The Ministry hasn't seen anything that would warrant a return to the tactics-- _

A look from Arthur silenced him. His father, usually a jolly man, spoke with an unusually dangerous edge to his voice. Percy, don't rely too much on the Ministry for your views. Minister Fudge is not the most reliable source of information. He doesn't believe what Harry saw.And Harry is? Percy asked rhetorically, thinking wrongly that he had made a point. Harry likes the attention Dad, the Prophet _even says so. The Minister is at least skeptical when Harry-- he had blocked his parents out, and was now simply repeating words that he had heard at work._

What about the boy who you've known for the past three four years, Percy? Doesn't he have a say? Percy knew that his father had a point, but didn't want to admit it. Instead, he said something, that in hindsight he wished he could have taken back. 

If you aren't with the Ministry, you're against everything that the Wizarding world stands for. It was something that Lucius Malfoy had said within earshot of Percy a couple of days before. He liked the tone of it. His family, however, didn't. The rest of the Weasleys began shouting at him, loudly. He cringed just a little bit when his mother and father shared a look that was decidedly not what he was hoping for. His father sighed, and said something that Percy didn't catch, but his mother did, and gasped. 

The others noticed, and Fred and George, who had been shouting the loudest, shut up immediately. Percy, you need to decide who you are going to support, the Ministry or your family. He felt trapped, but it was a trap of his own making. He opened his mouth to speak, and when he did, the words just tumbled out. I can see where I'm not welcome, he stood, and pushed away from the table. I'll go clear my things from my room, and be gone.

He walked out of the room, not wanting to hear the questions and pleadings shouted at him. He wasn't usually this rash, but the Minister had said that anyone who wasn't with them shouldn't be dealt with. 

Safe in his room, the door sealed against everyone, hot tears poured down his cheeks. Why was being right so hard?

For the next year or so, Percy worked very hard to ignore his father, and his mother and siblings when he saw them. His heart tore just a little bit to not speak to his father, to not be wrapped up in an awkward hug by his mother, seeing as he towered over her. He moved in with Oliver, and the two of them became closer than ever.

Until he found out that Harry was right. He went from being haughty at work, treating his father badly, to not being able to meet his eye. When he saw any of the Weasleys in Diagon Alley, he almost spoke to them, but couldn't bring himself to do it. Oliver pushed him towards at least talking to his mother and father, but he couldn't do it. He was wrong _for the first time in his life. Actually wrong about something. At Christmas, he went with Rufus Scrimgeout to see him family. He didn't want to, but he went. It wasn't a pleasant meeting, and his heart ached at the site of the rest of his family together, but he not able to spend time with them. _

Finally, at Dumbledore's funeral, he realized that he needed to say something. What if that had been his father; his mother? Or one of his siblings. Soon after the funeral, he Apparated to the Burrow, and stood outside the door, knocking. His mother and father opened the door, surprised to see him.

He didn't speak, couldn't bring himself to speak. His mother looked at him, and pulled him into one of her Weasley hugs. Although he hated them before, he felt safe. The tension that he'd been holding in for months, ever since the Ministry announced that Voldemort was back left him. Molly pulled away, tears rolling down her cheeks. His father as well, he saw, had tears falling from his eyes. Can I come in? he asked sheepishly, his voice breaking. His parents both nodded and--

Percy awoke groggily, eyes blinking open. He tried to think of what was next, but there was nothing there. He remembered the next day, and up until the present, but that moment was gone. 

he screamed, trying to make anyone hear him. Percy thrashed about, hands gripping the chains, as if by sheer force of desperate will he could pull the bug out of his ear. They didn't move.

_Vienna, Austria  
Somewhere Under the Hofburg_

The ICW training room was cavernous, with a series of smaller rooms for debriefings off of it. Harry, Hermione, Ron, Tonks, Zinker and the rest of the team stood tensed as Mario Luis raised his wand, and shot green sparks out of them end of it, signaling them to go.

Harry rushed forward, the group forming around him. _Protego Maximus! _he cried, and a shield surrounded the whole group. He gripped his wand with both hands, trying not to let the shield weaken at all. The spell he'd just cast was difficult under normal circumstances, but soon it was being tested by a series of floating wands that probed for weaknesses.

The teams' job was to get to the other end of the room, moving as a unit, disabling the wands. Hermione was on his left, and shot a wand, dropping it to the floor. Suddenly, a half dozen more wands flew out of the wall, and rapidly began firing off spell after spell. Harry began to sweat a little bit, and his hands shook with the energy to focus his magical energy through the wand. His breath was a little rapid, and he forced himself to calm down, to focus on moving forward.

Around him spells flew out of the shield, and hit their targets as best they could. The team was tired; they had been at this since breakfast. But it was important, Zinker said, and Harry agreed. Finally, they reached the other side, and with a wave of his wand, Luis brought the remaining wands down. Instantly, the team relaxed just a bit, and Harry put his arm up to Ron's shoulder, and rested there, catching his breath.

Tiring you out, are we Potter? Zinker asked, walking over to a table with juices on it. Harry nodded, and grinned wearily back at him. But I could do it again, if needed. Zinker simply nodded in response, and sipped his juice. Good. Luckily for you, you don't have to. We're taking a break under after dinner. I want all of you to go home and take a nap.I think I want to go to the church and see what we're up against, Zinker, Harry told his boss, walking towards the exit. I'll get rest after I'm done. Tonks started, but he cut her off. No, Tonks. Remember your mission to the mer-people? This is like that, he said, before she could really respond. She understood what he was going through, the drive, the need to find what you've lost. He saw that she did, and he walked away. He could sleep once Percy was rescued. 

Hermione caught up with him as he was entering the Hofburg proper. Harry, wait! she called out, catching his shoulder. He didn't respond, not trusting himself to say the right thing. All of this waiting was getting to him, and he knew that unless they found Percy alive, he would be almost impossible to be with for the next few weeks.

She fell in beside him as they walked out of the courtyard onto the sidewalk, not saying anything. They crossed the street, passing where Percy had disappeared, and Hermione gave a little shudder. It was mid-afternoon, and the streets were packed as they made their way past expensive shops, full of overpriced clothes and tourist traps. Turning left, they found themselves almost directly down the street from the cathedral. Pulling Hermione into an alleyway, Harry trapped his wand on her head, and an egg white colored film covered her over, obscuring her features, so that she would become completely unremarkable. She did the same to Harry, and they pushed their way back onto the street and slipped into the cathedral with other tourists and worshippers.

The dank, cold church soared above them; huge columns pushing the ceiling towards heaven. Baroque sculptures and paintings were displayed all over the church, and a guide was whispering in Japanese to a group of tourists. Harry and Hermione toured the church, the nave, the aisles, the high altar, all glimmering in gold and silver. They wound their way to the crypt, and paid a small fee to walk down. A chattering guide told them about the history of the crypt. 

Harry tuned the voice out, and instead focused on the walls, his hand surreptitiously gripping his wand, trying to get a reading for any space that might have magic. A warmth would flash through his hand occasionally, but nothing like the searing heat he should find.

Here is the tomb of Emperor Franz I, first emperor of the Austrian Empire, but also the last emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, the guide said in a cheerful voice, but Harry was no longer listening. Heat had spread through his hand, and had stayed there. He nudged Hermione, who looked surprised, as she was engrossed in the woman's lecture. They fell back a little bit, and both of them started to tap the marking stone with their wands. 

It was a musical sound, each tap producing a slightly different tone, either higher or lower, until both of their wands hit the same spot, just to the left of the center of the marker. A deep gong rang, and the stone swung inwards. Harry started to move forward, but Hermione stopped him, holding him back with her arm. Not now, Harry. We're all going to go in tonight.Hermione, I-- Harry started. Hermione cut him off. Harry, I know how much you want to find Percy. But we've got to have help. If Lucius Malfoy is really here, then he's probably more dangerous than ever. He sighed, and stepped away from the entrance, Obscuring it so that Muggles wouldn't stumble into it by accident. 

You're right, Hermione. I just... his voice trailed off. He wanted to find Percy. He wanted to ensure that he was safe. He wanted to know why Percy made such a valuable target. Hermione put her arm around him. I know, Harry. We'll get him. 

She hugged him, and he held her tightly for a long minute. It was like they were back at Hogwarts, up studying for the NEWTS, wondering when and if Voldemort was going to attack. She had hugged him a lot that year. He'd needed it. She pulled away first, and looked up at him. We need sleep, and Ron's probably hogging the bed. Let's go. 

They walked out of the crypt, and onto the street, Harry turned, and looked up at the spires of the church, and then towards where the crypt was, his green eyes burrowing into the stone. _Only a few more hours Percy, hold on._

_Vienna, Austria  
Under St. Stephan's_

M'Lord, the outer door has been breached, a sniveling voice came from behind Lucius, and he ignored it, waving away Thomas Hightower with a wave of his hand. He heard retreating footsteps, and a door closing behind him. The room was dim, with only a few candles burning in their holders, trying to push away the darkness that threatened at every moment to consume it. Maps of Vienna, the Hofburg, London and Wizarding London lay strewn over the table in front of him. He'd been trying to figure of the defenses of the ICW, and the Ministry of Magic since they'd begun working together against threats such as himself.

He started to chuckle, and then a cough wracked his throat, and he leaned onto the table, catching his breath. Hatred and fury welled up inside of him, not for the first time and certainly not for the last. His hand twitched, wanting to pull out his wand, Apparate to Malfoy Manor, and slaughter his son who had disfigured him. He could always get a pureblood pregnant again. 

Lucius looked over the the maps; the ICW would be a challenge. But if his agents played their parts right, he would be able to slip inside, take down the wards, blow the place up, and then disapparate without anyone being the wiser. A knock came at the heavy oak door, ornately inscribed with the Malfoy crest. He waved it open. M'Lord, a message from Nott. Lucius whirled around, and strode towards his lackey, ripping the message from his hand. You may go, he told him, and the door was closed. Lucius dropped into a stuffed wing chair, and read the note.

_M'Lord Lucius,_

Your chamber at Malfoy Manor is ready. Draco suspects nothing. I will await your arrival.

Ever Your Devoted Servant,  
T. Nott

Lucius smiled, and waved his wand, lighting the other candles in the room. With another wave, his trunks flew open, and all of his things began to float and fly into them, until they were stuffed full. He would not be sorry to see the back of this place, as well as the back of the Viennese. They were simply too used to ruling others that they did not make good servants.

Walking out of his room, he entered a drafty, dusty, dreary corridor, the bedrock moist. He entered into a small chamber, ignoring the moaning sounds coming from it. Flint, we're leaving. Destroy everything you can't carry. Leave nothing, tell no one. The Portkey will activate in ten minutes. His immaculately plucked good eyebrow raised itself up at who Flint was enjoying. Parkinson, you as well. Meet me in my chambers.

As he left, a soft chuckle rose up out of his throat. Who would have ever thought that Pansy Parkinson, a girl who his son had dated throughout Hogwarts, would turn out to be so...common. In the hallway, he checked the wards surrounding this place, strengthening them where needed. The ICW wouldn't be able to attack this place easily.

He went back to his rooms, and began thinking about his next few moves. Some of them had already been put into place, but others needed just a little bit more time until they were ready to be started. Pansy and Marcus entered just a few minutes later, each carrying a worn sack on their backs. Lucius pointed to the portkey, a worn silver knife, in the middle of the room, and they all touched it. Lucius felt his stomach tug in the direction of England, and his world went black.

They landed in a small chamber, hewn out of the bedrock. It was dark and humid, and light came from one or two torches set into the walls. Where are we? Pansy asked, sitting down on the floor.

A knock came at the door before Lucius could answer, and with a wave of his wand, Lucius swung the iron door open. Theodore Nott stood before them, a large amount of supplies floating behind him. He entered the chamber, and knelt at Lucius's feet.

M'Lord, welcome to your rightful home. The Manor has rebelled against your son these seven years, and your secrets are still safe, he finished, and kissed the hem of Lucius's robes. Lucius grinned, and motioned for his servant to rise. Nott had always been loyal. Here are supplies for the next several days; I will bring more as you require them. Contact me in the usual way. For your own protection, no one must leave this chamber unless I come and get you. Draco, he spat at this, has charmed the Manor to report to him, should unwanted visitors arrive. This chamber is protected.

Lucius nodded, and sat down on one of the cots, feeling the rough wool beneath his fingers. Has there been anything from Tiberius since his election?

Nott shook his head. No, although I expect something from him soon. If I might excuse myself--Draco will be wanting fawning over before he goes to dinner. He sighed, and bowed deeply, closing the door behind him.

Lucius turned to Marcus and Pansy, both of whom wore severe expressions. Weasley did not give us the information we require...however, there is another source that may yet bear fruit. There are other plans that are necessary for our victory as well. Here is what is needed for you two to do... he outlined his plans, and he was pleased that both of them said yes almost immediately.

_Hogsmede, United Kingdom  
The Hogs Head_

Ginny pulled her cloak closer to her thin shoulders, trying to keep warm. It was a brisk May night, and she was always cold. She made her way down the dim streets of Hogsmede, and sighing, Ginny entered the dingy premises of the Hogs Head, thinking back on almost a decade ago when Harry had instituted the DADA group. She smiled at the memory. The bar wasn't very crowded, nor was it particularly well lit. The tables were the same as she remembered them, and the glasses hanging above the bar still had the same stains on them. All in all, not a very good place for a meeting.

You Ginny Weasley? the large barkeep asked her, leaning over the bar. She nodded, and looked around nervously, wondering who was listening. Message for you, he told her, and held up a greasy note between his beer stained fingers. Ginny, summoning her courage, walked briskly over to him and took the note, opening it. She read it over, and pushed it deep into her pockets. _Dennis wanted to meet me upstairs_, she thought to herself, even while her feet were taking her to the stairs.

Ginny climbed the rickety stairway, looking with disgust at the tattered stuffed vulture that sat on the top of the bannister and looked down at her with glittering eyes. Dennis's room was No. 3, and she knocked, he fist making a hollow sound into the room. A moment later, the door swung open, revealing the short, blond haired boy in a bathrobe.

He was standing just a little bit taller than yesterday, and his hair was done. Dennis smiled at her, and unlike yesterday, his teeth were clean. Ignoring that, she barged inside, and he stared after her. Make yourself at home, he told her, laughing just a little bit. 

Any trace of nervousness washed away from her as she whirled around, her feet planted on the ground, and her voice firm. Dennis, you've had your fun. My article is gone, my career today just took a nosedive, and I'm here, in the Hogs Head, a place that I never thought I would have to go into again, she told him furiously. What do you know? Each word was spat out, and he grinned at her, and motioned for her to sit down. Her hand gripped her wand as she did so, just to be on the safe side.

Ginny, I think that we got off on a bad foot yesterday, he began, and she wondered where he was going with this tirade. Part of her wanted to get up and leave, but she knew that it might help find Percy, so she stayed where she was. I know that you and I haven't had the best relationship in the world, but I do love you. I always have. I've heard about your lack of willingness to find a suitable boyfriend; practically the whole wizarding world has. I think that you and I would make a great team.

At this, Ginny flew into a rage. She couldn't believe that she had been dragged all this way for no reason what so ever. She stood up to leave, but found that she couldn't. Her feet could move, but her legs, and every part of her body that was attached to the chair, wouldn't move, no matter how hard she struggled. Dennis grinned wider, displaying perfect teeth. Do you like my chair? It was a gift from--Let me go, Ginny commanded in a low growl. She tried to lift the chair towards the door, to yell, to do anything to get away. Her wand lay in her pocket, but her hand couldn't quite pull it out. Dennis watched her, his grin growing wider by the second. Finally he pulled out his wand and cried Ginny felt herself floating in her body, one part of her mind agreeing with what Dennis was saying, the other screaming at her to do anything. Her own mind grew weaker, as Dennis lay curse upon curse to bind her free mind and make hers subservient to his.

She resisted as much as she could; the free part of her mind gained control for a moment, and Ginny struggled against the overwhelming desire to submit to Dennis, who stood over her, powerful and commanding. She shut her eyes, squeezing them tight, trying to block him out. Blows reigned down on her from every side, even as the command to _submit_ grew even stronger. _Where had her learned such spells?_ she asked herself, not knowing the answer, and almost not wanting to find out.

Finally, Dennis won out, and her own mind was trapped inside of a steel cage. It was like watching a picture of yourself. Ginny could her and see what was going on, but it was almost through a fog. 

In three weeks time, the International Confederation of Wizards is having a large meeting. As a reporter for the _Prophet_, as well as being Percy's sister, you will be assigned to cover the stories that might come out of this meeting. I am going with you, as your partner. Its the perfect cover, because no one would suspect a Weasley. My Master will give us further instructions. You will act no differently than before, Ginny. You will be as tough and as fierce as you need to be. But when I give a command, you will obey me without question. Furthermore, after today, you are my girlfriend. I think you will find that to be a satisfactory arrangement, Dennis concluded, and kissed her on the mouth.

Inside of that cage, Ginny recoiled. It was like kissing a frog, something that she had done when she was five. She had hoped that it would turn into a prince. Somehow, this time, she doubted it.

_Vienna, Austria  
Somewhere Under the Hofburg_

Harry had spent the afternoon sleeping, but it was not a restful sleep. Instead his mind raced with a thousand spells and counter-curses to everything that Lucius Malfoy could possibly think up, in any number of combinations. By now, it was nearly eight o'clock, and Harry and the rest of the team were readying themselves in a room off of the training room. Harry stood before his locker, a small metal cabinet, pointed his wand at it, and it swung open. He stepped inside and closed the door.

Cloaks of all shapes and sizes hung on the wall, and various hats and other items, Muggle and Magical, lay strewn about. He picked out a black cloak, dipped in several magic resistant potions, and threw it over his shoulders. He strapped on arm holsters for a couple of surprises for anyone who got to close to him. Satisfied, he left the locker, making sure the door was shut.

Harry then entered the training area, noting that Ron and Hermione were having a a whispered debate in the corner. He ignored them; after almost fifteen years of being friends and on-again off-again lovers, they still bickered like an old married couple. Standing in the middle of the shadowy room, he proceeded to go through a long series of stretches and exercises that helped him to loosen up before any missions that he went on. It didn't matter to him what the mission was, he had to be ready for anything; this time more so as it was Lucius Malfoy.

He stopped in the middle of a stretch, standing on one leg, and thought about Lucius. Why he'd choose to expose himself like this-seeing as the ICW conference wasn't for almost two months. Percy'd been carrying the spells, it was true, but Lucius wasn't stupid, and knew that they would take certain precautions. Malfoy was good for one thing, and that was plans within plans, and contingencies within contingencies. For all he knew, the man rotting below him in the cell could have been a plant. Lucius could want them to find Percy, in hopes that he would kill some of the ICW forces. But the larger goal remained elusive in Harry's mind.

Harry returned to stretching, to focusing himself on the mission at hand, and taking the challenges as they came, as he always did. Gryffindor bravery with a little bit of Ravenclaw intelligence, thrown with Hufflepuff loyalty and Slytherin cunning. He was a compilation of all four houses, especially after seventh year. 

A gong rang, and he brought himself out of the meditative state, and ran to the far door, where Zinker had appeared, dressed for battle, as he was. The others looked the same. Tonks was a shifting mass of colors, swirling around, taking on the appearance and color of the walls behind her. Ron and Hermione were both dressed in Auror uniforms, grim looks on their faces.

Tonight, we will rescue Percy Weasley. Do not think this is easy. After You-Know-Who, Lucius Malfoy might just well be the most dangerous wizard alive today. We can't afford any heroics tonight. A simple extraction mission is all that's required. I've given you each a Portkey back here if the situation becomes critical. However, based on intelligence, Malfoy does not have many with him. Ready?

Harry looked around the room; every face was professional, hard. They were all products of the brutal war against Voldemort in one way or another, and they were the best. Everyone nodded, and Zinker led the way up the stairs to the main floor of the ICW. Mario Pizzaro, the Italian head of the ICW, stood just outside of the entrance, holding a book, looking sternly down at them through half-moon spectacles. I thought I might come and wish you all good luck. All of our hopes go with you tonight. Lucius Malfoy has not been seen in our world since his master was destroyed seven years ago, that does not mean that he has not been busy. Percy Weasley must be found and rescued, he finished, and shook Zinker's hand, and watched them as they climbed the stairs to the main level.

The night was warm, and the team walked in a long group towards St. Stephen's, to avoid detection. The deacon stood at the massive doors, greeting the last of his parishioners. He looked slightly happier than yesterday, but not by much. He led them across the wide marble floor to the crypt, and down the stairs. Zinker thanked him, but he left without a word.

Zinker walked down the darkened hallway into the crypt, and Harry motioned to the stone of Francis I. The team stopped, and Harry drew his wand, and cast a bubble shield charm around them, fighting to keep it controlled. Hermione moved forward, and tapped on the correct brick. The brick pulled inward, followed by others, creating a doorway. 

Zinker motioned Tonks and Ron to be on point, and they rushed ahead, peering into the space beyond. A whispered word was heard, and Harry braced himself and hardened his shield against the oncoming attack. A red bolt of light hit it, and spread harmlessly over the group. Together, they entered the chamber, and begin firing spells in all directions as the corridor was plunged into darkness.

A/N : Will Harry & Company come out of this alright? Will Percy still be alive? What nefarious plots do Lucius and Tiberius have in store for the Wizarding World? Find out two weeks from now as the adventure continues in Lairs'. Please remember to review - Even if it's just a hey, this is a cool story' or great', it would mean a lot to me to know that people are reading. Thank you! Also, many thanks to my beta Tabitha, for all the hard work on editing. Many thanks for reading and see you in two weeks!


	6. Lairs

**Darkness Rising  
Chapter 5 : Lairs  
Part One: Percy**

_London, United Kingdom  
The Docks_

Tiberius Malfoy glanced in the mirror, and marveled at the changes that had occurred over the past seven years. Heíd gone from a broken man, working with illegal equipment and cells of terrorists, to a respected member of the Wiltshire community. Heíd won a seat in Parliament, and was quickly making connections in the Conservative Party, a platform which heíd not had before. All of this was due to magic. It seemed as if his brother was the one having all of the trouble. However, they had agreed to only meet when it was absolutely necessary. His brother had requested a meeting tomorrow evening, at Malfoy Manor.

Tonight however, he found himself looking into a dingy bathroom mirror along the docks of London, and making sure his red tie was on straight. He moved it just a bit, and stepped out of the room into a large warehouse. His guests would be arriving moments from now. Two of his aides stood ready at the door, a vacant look on their faces. Their memories of tonight would have to be erased, he thought, but for now they are serving their purpose. 

He grinned, and felt exultation at finally being able to implement the plan that he and Lucius had worked out seven years before. A knock at the door, and Stewart Billium, one of his assistants, pulled the latch on the door, and it slip open with an angry squeal. Ten men stepped into the room. Tiberius did not know their names, nor did he truly care for what they were calling themselves at this meeting. He was alone in the center of the room, and they approached him cautiously.

A bearded man, whipcord thin approached him, and they shook hands. He knew him as Ali. ìI have been waiting a long time to see your face once again, Malfoy. Weíve missed you,î the man finished, and stepped back. ìGood evening gentlemen.î Tiberius began, ìI called you here tonight because I want to show you what Iíve been working on for the past seven years. I told you to bring your heaviest weapons?î A nod from the first man said that they had. ìGood. I want you to attempt to kill me,î and he smiled, showing them that he was serious.

They moved hesitantly, unsure of what he was trying to do. He sighed, and pulled a black pen from his pocket. He broke it, and a shimmering shield surrounded him. The group assembled moved slowly still, and he waited until they were in place. ìAre you sure you want to do this?î Ali asked him. He nodded, and they opened fire.

The sound in the rusting warehouse was deafening. They all had submachine guns, and hundreds of rounds were fired at Tiberius within a minute. But none of them got through his Shielding Charm, and the shells piled up around him. He began to laugh, and walk around a little bit, with the others still firing. Nothing happened to him. Finally, the group ceased firing, and he walked over to them.

ìThis is a shield for most weapons short of a tank round. You can fire from within it, and you will be protected. The protection lasts for almost five hours. And it can go through metal detectors, in fact there is nothing short of magic that could stop it,î he smiled at his little joke.

ìWhat will this cost us?î Ali asked. Tiberius thought a moment, took out a piece of paper and wrote a number down on it. He handed it to the man, and stepped back. ìDoes that sound fair?î Ali nodded. ìThe usual method will suffice for this transaction. I will require ten days. They will be left near Kings Cross Station.î

ìIs there anything else that you require of us, Malfoy?î Ali asked as his men were packing their guns up. Tiberius thought a moment. ìYes,î he replied. ìAny attacks you make using these weapons, claim responsibility by the Magical Brethren.î

Ali looked confused for a second, and then nodded in ascent. They left quickly after that. Tiberius felt a surge of triumph, and knew that it would only be a matter of time before both the Muggle and Magical governments of Britain were under the control of the Malfoy line. 

With a wave of his wand, the bullet shells disappeared from the warehouse, making it as dirty as it was when he arrived a few hours ago. His aides came to him, and they put their hands out, as theyíd been instructed to do. He placed in their hands a Portkey, activated it, and was transported back to his office.

It was the work of only a few moments to clear the memories of his aides, sending them home afterwards. Theyíd be tired in the morning, but remember only a night of drinking. Tiberius smiled wickedly, yes, things were definitely looking up for he and the Malfoy family.

_Vienna, Austria  
Under St. Stephanís Cathedral _

Harry was exhausted, sweat dripping down his face, his hands clammy and sore from gripping his wand. The shield that heíd created when theyíd entered Luciusís lair had been dispelled and recast three times, and it was all he could do to hold his wand aloft and create even a minimal barrier against the still attacking Death Eaters.

A thick jet of red light struck very tip of his wand, and his wand began to smolder. He dropped it, and the shield went down. Harry bent to pick up his wand, casting an Immersion Charm as he did so, enveloping his wand in water. The smoldering quickly went out, and Harry gave up trying to keep up the shield.

Ron appeared beside him, part of his fiery red hair singed and a series of pox marks across his face. He looked grim, but determined. The battle had gone fairly well, and they had yet to lose anyone, although Zinker had lost three on his right hand. The other side still fought with determination, and Apparated and Disapparated between the rooms to confuse them.

Hermione appeared beside him, her bushy hair all over the place, but otherwise unharmed. He motioned to them to be quiet, and moved quickly to the side of one of the last rooms to be searched. A blast came from the other side of the door, and blew out the wall, sending Harry, Hermione and Ron flying backwards. Out of the room poured seven fighters, wands blasting off every curse they could think of in a rainbow of colors. Three Shielding charms appeared over Harry, Ron and Hermione, and the curses flew in all directions.

Harry stood, and shot off a couple of curses of his own. He hit one of the figures who fell to the ground with a cry, clutching at his arm. ìNice one, Harry!î Ron said, freezing one of the others in place. It was really a one sided battle, as the seven Viennese members of Luciusís team couldnít compete against the trio of Harry, Ron and Hermione, who fell into old patterns as they whittled down the number of opponents to nothing.

Zinker rushed into the room just as they turned to exit; he looked worried. ìWeíve not been able to find where Lucius kept Percy,î he told them, and they followed him back out. The other members of the team were scanning the walls with their wands, looking for hidden passageways or doors. Finally, Tonks found it. ìItís here, Zinker!î she cried, and with a wave of her wand, revealed the door hidden behind an old Ireland Quidditch poster. Together, they blasted it open, and light spilled into the darkness beyond.

The team filed in, and Zinker yelled ì_Lumon Maximus!î_ and the entire room blazed into light from the ends of their wands. The walls and floor were blank smooth gray stone. In fact, the only thing of note in the entire room was the series of chains that held Percy Weasley. ìPercy!î Ron cried, and moved forward to cut the chains and release his brother.

Percyís head shot up, he was more gaunt than ever, and his hair was matted all over. His eyes were wild, roaming everywhere and he was babbling. Hermione and Ron cut the chains that stretched him above the floor, and he sank to the ground, clutching himself. ìPercy?î Ron repeated, this time more hesitantly. Percy looked at him, his blue eyes with only a spark of intelligence to them. ìRon?î Percy said slowly, not believing that his rescue was here. Ron broke into a grin that Harry knew he was matching at this moment. ìYeah, we decided to come visit you. I brought some friends.î Percy stood up, and walked forward hesitantly. Although it had only been a couple of days, Harry knew that Percy would be unsure of himself after seemingly being suspended in the air for the entire time.

Zinker took control of the situation. ìWeasley, glad to have found you. Were you carrying anything when they took you?î Percy nodded. ìMy briefcase. It had the Ministry spells in it, but they were in code. Did you find--î Percy let out a bloodcurdling scream, and clutched at his head. ìGet it out! Get it out! Get it out! I-I-I...î He was cast in a Full-Body Bind so he couldnít move or hurt himself.

ìPercy, what happened?î Ron asked, concern evident in his voice. Harry thought that it would be a cruel joke for the team to have found Percy, only to have him die.

ìLucius used a Mind Bug,î Hermioneís face grew curious, almost as if she was going to ask a question. ìto punish me. Itís eating away at my memoryís and brain until I die. It will then lay itís eggs, and more Mind Bugs will be born,î Percy told them.

ìWeíve got to get you back to the ICW. Theyíll be able to take the bug out once we get there,î Zinker told Percy. ì_Portus,_î he continued, and a small link of Percyís chain became a Portkey. They all took hold, and a few moments later Harry felt the familiar tug of the Portkey on his belly button, pulling him back to headquarters.

They landed in the Portkey Room, just off the Central Office. Percy was helped down the stairs from the platform, where he promptly collapsed backwards, into a surprised Harry, who caught him in his arms.

_Ottery St. Catchpole, United Kingdom  
The Burrow_

Molly looked at the old grandfather clock for what she thought was the one hundredth time that hour, seeing if there had been any change in either Percy or Ronís hand. Neither had moved. The whole family had assembled in the living room, and had taken over the house until this was over. George had brought Oliver to visit, and Ginny had announced that Dennis Creevey was now her boyfriend, and he too sat in the living room. Fred and Katie Bell arrived moments after them. It made her happier than sheíd been in a long time to see Ginny with a boy. Even if it was Dennis Creevey, who looked a little bit worse for wear.

They had been in the living room all night, talking, dozing, and waiting for news. It was nearly midnight, and Molly hadnít slept since Percyís kidnapping three days ago.

She began to walk away from the clock and go into the kitchen for a glass of blackberry juice, when the clock began to whirr loudly. Both Percy and Ronís hands moved from ëMortal Perilí to ëtravelingí and then to ëworkí. But it seemed as if Percyís hand was stuck a little bit, because it was only on ëworkí for a second before spinning back to ëMortal Perilí.

ìPercy...heís...î she exclaimed, gripping the sides of her dress tightly, but unable to finish the sentence. Whatever exhaustion had hit the family was pushed aside immediately as they all crowded around the clock, excited that there was some change.

ìWhat is it Molly?î Arthur asked her, wrapping his arm around her. She looked at him, concern on her face, and told them all what happened. Arthurís face brightened as Molly said that both Percy and Ronís hands had changed, but fell, his head bowing when Percyís was back on Mortal Peril. Molly gripped Arthurs blue cardigan, as she began to cry. Strong hands touched her, the hands of her family and their extended loved ones as together they hoped that Percy would pull through whatever he was going through.

After a while though, no more tears would come, and she looked at the wet spot that sheíd created on Arthurís sweater and laughed, a little too loudly. ìWho wants a snack?î she asked cheerfully, much more so than she felt, and started to work around the kitchen, setting the knives to cutting and pulling out meats and cheeses from the ice box. The Weasleys all nodded, if it was one thing they were used to, it was good food.

As she was setting the table, Molly noticed that George and Oliver had pulled themselves off to one side, and looked to be arguing. As a good mother of seven sheíd been able to listen to conversations had in some of the oddest places, to make sure that there was family peace. Oliver had his hands folded under his chest, and George was making gestures, something that he did only when frustrated. They were both speaking softly, but vehemently, almost as if they were...Molly dismissed that thought right out of her head. George was a good boy, and was going to provide her with lots of grandchildren. Oliver was just a good friend.

With that, she forced a smile on her face, waved her wand to slide the meat and cheese onto platters, and floated it to the table. She strode over to the two boys, who immediately stopped what conversation they were having, and grew slightly red in the face. Something was up, but she would ask Fred about it later. ìSnacks are ready boys,î she told them, turning away and sitting down.

ìSo Dennis, youíre a courier of the _Daily Prophet_?î Arthur asked, trying to not let the concern for Ron and Percy show on his face.

ìYes sir, I am,î Dennis replied a little too eagerly. ìItís an interesting job, but one that I hope to rise with. I want to get into editing, and eventually publish the _Prophet_.î Molly nodded at that last statement. Ginny could do worse, she decided then and there. ìQuite ambitious, arenít you, Dennis?î Arthur asked, glancing at Molly and smiling.

ìYes sir--î Dennis started. Arthur interjected ìCall me Arthur, Dennis.î

ìArthur, yes, I am. And I hope that Ginny can keep up with me, because once I get going, there will be no stopping me,î he smiled as he finished speaking, and took a bite of his sandwich. A glob of mustard squeezed out from the bread, and landed on his robes, ruining the moment. Both Fred and George looked at each other, and started to laugh. Horrified, Dennis waved his wand over his shirt, and cleaned the stain up. Ginny couldnít help but giggle, and Molly and Arthur shared a look. 

A small owl zoomed into the kitchen and landed right in front of Arthur digging his black talons into the crusty bread. Pigwidgeon hadnít changed a whole lot since Ron had gotten him, and was still a bundle of energy, even if he was getting older. The small owl stuck his leg out, and Arthur pulled from his carrier pouch a piece of parchment, folded up many times. Pigwidgeon zoomed off to his cage, and hooted from the corner. Arthur began to read.

Dear Mum & Dad,

We got Percy! Heís hurt, and undergoing magical surgery as I write this. Hermione is booking a noon Portkey to Vienna for the family. Will send more details in the morning Harry is fine, and sends his regards.

Love,  
Ron

Arthur scribbled off a reply, and Pig flew over, hooting as he did so. Arthur stuck the reply in his leg, and the owl flew away, narrowly avoiding the window frame as he did.

ìWeíd all better get some sleep, then. Percy is in good hands.î Molly told them, and she made the sleeping arrangements. Oliver George, Fred and Katie, and Dennis all said their goodbyes, leaving Ron and Ginny in the house with their parents. Everyone was going to be back for a quick lunch before heading off to Vienna.

After all of the dishes were put to work cleaning themselves in the sink, Molly climbed the stairs, and fell into a deep sleep next to her husband, clothes still on. She was exhausted.

_Vienna, Austria  
Under the Hofburg - ICW Hospital Ward_

Percy fluttered his eyes open, the world very out of focus. Blobs of color, black, red and brown hovered around him, he smiled. His head didnít feel as if anything was eating away inside, nor did he feel much of anything, truth be known. ìWhe um I?î he asked, trying to force his tongue and mouth to work. It wouldnít form the words he knew should come out. In fact, when he tried to lift his hand and arm to move his hair out of his face, he couldnít lift his arm at all.

ìPercy, stop trying to move. The Anti-Pain Potion wears off in a couple of hours. Youíll feel plenty then,î a voice sounding suspiciously like Ronís came from his left. ìWon?î Percy called out, and a hand gripped his shoulder. A red blob moved closer. ìYeah, Iím here. Harry and Hermione are too.î

He moved his eyes, and saw the other two blobs moving closer. ìHas the Anti-Pain Potion taken effect?î a new voice asked, and the three moved away. Percy couldnít hear what was said. A black and white blob moved closer, and he felt a sharp jab at his ear. The world went black.

Percy woke sometime later, his eyes opening slowly, adjusting to the bright light streaming in through the window. He felt...better. A lot better. The world was suddenly in focus again. He was in a hospital ward, that much was clear, and one that knew its business. Medi-wizards and witches walked by with a purpose, tending the few patients on the other side of the room. He shifted a little bit, and one of them noticed, walking quickly over to him.

ìMister Weasley, I see weíre awake,î the witch said, her face framed by coal black hair. ìDo you feel up to visitors yet?î 

Percy nodded his approval, and she walked away. He sighed, and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to sort out the last couple of days. Some of it was a little foggy, almost as if he was in a dark room, but most of it was clear. His meeting with the Minister. Going home and seeing Oliver and George together. Being kidnapped, and the subsequent pain. He squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to think of something else. Anything else. Oliver. Molly. Anyone. Finally, the memories went away, and he opened his eyes, hearing quiet footsteps entering the ward.

Ron, Hermione and Harry walked in, Hermioneís hands in Ron and Harryís. They were all looking at him, worry crossing their faces. He smiled for them a little bit, and the tension seemed to go out of them. ìPercy?î Ron began, his voice a bit breathless.

Percy nodded. ìItís me Ron,î and with that, the three of them relaxed even more. ìI donít know how to thank you Harry, any of you. I canít thank you. Harry, I--î

Harry blushed at this, and started to stammer a little bit. In the back of his mind, Percy though how cute it was that Harry still stammered a little bit, even after all that he had been through. ìMister Weasley?î a voice interrupted.

ìYes?î both Ron and Percy answered at the same time, and they both laughed. ìThe bedridden Mister Weasley, if you donít mind.î the witch replied, smiling. ìItís time for your strength potion. This will help you heal faster.î

Percy grimaced, and the witch took out a long, wide silver spoon out of the table by his bedside, and poured a heading dose of a gooey blue potion into it. ìOpen up, Mister Weasley,î she told him, and Percy complied, squeezing his eyes shut, and opening his mouth. The potion tasted...good, surprisingly. Like warm baked apples. He swallowed, and the witch took the spoon out, and told him that sheíd be back for another dose in a couple of hours.

ìHave you told mum?î Percy asked, feeling slightly warm all over as the potion took effect. Ron nodded. ìI owled her just after we brought you in. Theyíll be here in a couple of hours,î Ron said, glancing at the clock hanging by the door.  
ìGood,î Percy replied. ìI feel like I could run a marathon.î 

ìThe staff said you would, Percy.î Harry spoke for the first time. He wore a simple black robe over his clothes, and his hair still pointed in every direction, unable to be tamed. ìI wouldnít advise it though,î he added, laughing.

ìNo, somehow I donít think Iíll be going anywhere for quite some time,î Percy said, relief now flooding into him that he was safe. ìDid the doctors say anything about my memories?î

The trio looked at each other, unsure of what to say. Ron spoke up quickly, trying to cover. ìPercy, itíll be really wonderful to have the family back together again, wonít it?î He saw through that facade, and folded his arms under his chest. ìWhat did they say, Ron?î He was not feeling very friendly at the moment.

ìPercy, the doctors killed the bug inside your brain. What it ate though canít be replaced. They tried to pull your memories out, but they were only able to get a couple before the bug died.

He closed his eyes, stunned. Heíd secretly hoped to get everything back. His earliest memories were now gone, leaving only a hollow black spot. He had an eye for memories, for keeping them, letting nothing slip by him. Now, he could only remember back until just before the twins were born. He breathed heavily, sighing. Percy felt three hands on his shoulders, comforting him. He opened his eyes, and smiled. ìI was rescued. Thatís all that matters.î

At that moment, Ronís stomach chose to growl. Percy snorted a little bit, and said ìRon, go eat. Iíll be fine here, really. Iíll see you when mum and dad arrive.î

Ron looked sheepishly at Harry and Hermione in a ëcould we?í sort of way, and they smiled. ìCímon Ron, letís go,î Harry and Hermione both said, and the three waved goodbye and left the wing.

Percy turned over on his side and closed his eyes, not feeling the need to sleep. He would, however rest until his parents and family came. And Oliver. Would Oliver come? Did Oliver even know that he was missing? Did--his mind suddenly went into overdrive, spinning over a hundred short questions that left him unable to think. Would George be there? Would he bring Oliver? What would he say? How should he have his hair? What would Mum say about his encounter.

Before the pressure of questions got too much to bear, Percyís mind went blank, and a new though emerged from somewhere deep in the recesses of his brain. His eyes shot open, and he thought to himself ì_I remember!_î, and grinned.

_Wiltshire, United Kingdom  
Malfoy Manor_

If there was anything that Draco Malfoy hated more, it was a boring party. He stood in the middle of the Grand Ballroom, candles floating high above his head, providing illumination of the ceiling above. High, arched windows on both walls of the room looked out onto the rolling grounds of the estate. As a boy, he loved to come into the room when it was raining, and listen to the thunder and look out over the grounds.

Today the sky was crystal blue and the grass blew lightly in the breeze however. Furthermore, he was not alone; House Elves dotted the room, _popping_ in and out with a _crack!_ in different places, with high backed chairs, colored globes that floated into the air and fifteen other decorations. 

Draco walked the length of the room, issuing orders to fix a globe, or a length of garland. He had decided that morning to throw a party. Invitations had gone out by Floo at noon, and a full guest list of one hundred had responded. Draco Malfoyís parties were never, ever dull. He remembered fondly a party he threw a year ago with a Venetian theme. A masque, as he recalled. Heíd dressed as a 17th century Dodge of the Republic, and spiked the fountain in the center of the room. By the end of the night, there were a dozen wizards and witches swimming in the fountain, and Pansy had stood on a chair and declared her undying love for Ernie MacMillian four times, each louder than the last.

Draco stopped at one set of mahogany double doors and looked over the room. The House Elves stopped working as he looked, trepidation filling their eyes. The Grand Ballroom had been turned into a giant constellation for tonight, with silver and blue globes floating among hundreds of sparkling silver candles. Draco nodded, and the elves relaxed a bit. 

ìDraco?î Theodoreís voice rang out over the room. Dracoís good mood fell. Nott was one of the last people, with the exception of his father, that he wanted to see. But still, wizards of his station were expected to have personal secretaries. ìYes, Nott?î he replied, gathering himself for whatever horrible news might have to come from him.

ìThe rest of the money has been transferred to the Canons.î

ìIs that all you wanted to tell me?î Draco asked, his left eyebrow pointing to the sky, voice dripping sarcasm.

Nott sighed, and continued. ìNo, Draco. Professor Lupin is here to see you...something about a relic, he said. He is in the East Drawing Room.î

Draco nodded, dismissed Nott, and walked to his study, impatient to send Lupin on his way.

Professor Remus Lupin looked as haggard as ever, almost as if there had been a full moon only a few nights before. Draco could not help but be just a little worried about Lupinís appearance, with his threadbare cloak and workmanís cap pulled over dark and rumpled clothing. 

ìMalfoy,î Lupin said as Draco entered, standing and offering him his hand, which Draco shook. All the fears of a moment ago were forced down as he shook the werewolfís hand, wincing at the strong grip. ìYour owl was intriguing, but cryptic. What is this about?î Lupin was succinct, if nothing else. Draco motioned for him to sit on the plush dark leather sofa of his study.

ìI know that my family has never treated you well, either personally or professionally.î Draco told him, simply neglecting to mention his own role in the former professorís misfortunes. ìI would like to change that.î

Lupin leaned back, clearly surprised at this frank admission. Draco had planned it this way, and continued his attack. ìIím offering you a salary of three thousand galleons a year for the next five years,î he told the other man, letting out the bait just a little bit more. ìI know this will not erase old wounds, but it might help a little bit.î

The worn face across from him flared in anger; it was clear that Lupin did not want his charity. ìWhat would I do, Malfoy?î

ìMy Egyptian operations have been suffering recently. Several of my employees have been missing from work for over a month now, and last week another group disappeared. I think it is sabotage.î

ìWhy me?î Lupin asked, folding his arms under his chest. ìBecause I know that you are one of the worldís experts in Defense, Professor. Because I want to give you this. Because I am not my father.î He said this last with a little venom. He was ambitious, yes. But he was not his father to be some lackey to a wizard. Even the worldís most powerful.

Remus Lupin stood up abruptly. ìI can see that. What about the Wolfsbane?î

ìMy Potion-Master in Egypt has instructions to brew it for you. Will you accept?î Draco asked him, standing as well. They stood almost eye to eye, ice gray to brown.

ìYes, I will,î Lupin told him, nodding as he did. ìWhen do I start?î

A/N: So Percy is resuced, Tiberius is plotting, and Lupin is off to Egypt...what does it all mean? Simply because Percy is rescued does not mean that he is out of danger - not by a long shot. Many thanks for my beta Tabitha, for all that she does. Many thanks to :

Momo Jojo - Yes, Percyís relationship to Harry will become more clear as time goes on, although Percy isnít the one for Harry.

for reviewing chapter 4. Please remember to review - it just takes a moment. Where do you think the plot is going? Weíre only maybe 10 into the story so far - weíve got a long way to go and many events before the finale. Chapter 6 will be posted in two weeks time, so...November 25th. Please review!


	7. Family

**Darkness Rising  
Chapter 6: Family  
Part One: Percy**

_Wiltshire, United Kingdom  
Malfoy Manor  
_  
Theodore Nott walked quickly along the imposing corridors of Malfoy Manor, taking no notice of the moon filtering through the tall windows, casting shadows on the thick carpeting. It was a warm summer night, and the party was in full swing upstairs. Draco had called the stupid party that morning, and had told Nott earlier that he intended it to be the party to remember that summer, even if the season was only a month or so old. Nott smiled then of course, he had to. But now, he wore a frown, thinking only of how many galleons the party would cost, and where the money would come from. There was no question of the party being held, nor of its extravagance. The Malfoy fortune, Draco had told him on several occasions, was bottomless, and he was intent on proving it.

The corridor ended beside a tapestry showing Lord Maximillian Malfoy IV standing over a group of peasants, holding a wand, and lifting each of them high up into the air, one by one. The tapestry moved of course, and Maximillian did not like to be disturbed, but he moved it aside, and tapped on three knots in the wainscoting. A door slid back and revealed a set of stairs, cut into the bedrock and leading downward. Holding his wand in front of him and lighting it, Nott walked down the well worn steps one by one. Dark rock gave way to inky blackness, and he gulped, making sure not to fall. He wasnít about to find out how far the supposed ëbottomless pití really went.

A flurry of bats screeching upwards greeted him at the bottom of the stairs, the corridor stretching in three directions. He walked forward, and counted the number of cells. At the ninth, he stopped, and tapped on the door. The cell appeared to be empty inside, but the rusty iron door groaned open, and he quickly went inside.

His Lord and Master, Lucius Malfoy reclined on the cot, while Marcus and Pansy sat on large pillows against the wall, eyes glazed over in ecstasy. ìMíLord,î Nott began, kneeling at Luciusís feet, kissing the hem of his pants. ìYou instructed me to come?î

Lucius nodded, and motioned for Nott to stand. ìI did. You are required tonight to send an owl to Dennis Creevey.î

ìCreevey?î Nott had seen that slimy, messy boy sucking up to the editors of the _Daily Prophet_ and been repulsed by him. Nott had a very fastidious manner and anyone who was not clean did not sit well with him. ìIs he one of us?î Nott asked before he could stop himself. Pain shot through his body, encompassing him totally, forcing all other thoughts out. Lucius stood, grabbing his face brutally, and pulling his flailing body to his own.

ìIt is not for you to know. You are nothing, a worm. Do not ask questions of things you have no business knowing, and I have no intention of telling you. It is enough for you to obey. Do you understand?î

It took every ounce of his strength to nod his head. His master must have been satisfied because the pain left him. He fell to the ground, sobbing. Marcus and Pansy did not move, nor react. ìI will send the owl,î he told his Master when he could force the words out.

ìGood. Write on the parchment the word ëarticleí.î Lucius said in reply. ìYou may go.î

He fled from the room, and stumbled down the corridor back towards the stairs to the Manor. Nott took a long moment to compose himself, smoothing out his clothes, and controlling his breathing. He climbed the steps, taking one at a time, and came out under the tapestry some minutes later.

The Owl Room was only a short distance away, and the loud hoots of the twenty owls that Draco kept scared him just a bit. He was still shaken, not truly believing that the pain was over. Never did it occur to him to question his master. He scribbled out what Lucius required of him, and tied it to the leg of a fierce-looking owl, which took off with a loud screech.

Nott watched the owl disappear into the night, turned, and left the Owl Room, determined to find his bed.

_Vienna, Austria  
Under the Hofburg, ICW Hospital Wing_

Percy sat up in his bed, propped up against a few pillows, sipping a small cup of weak tea, trying to calm himself down. He glanced at the clock again, for what seemed to be the eighth time in the previous two minutes, willing the clock to go faster. It was just after noon, and he expected his parents and brothers and sister to be arriving very shortly. They could Apparate from the portkey station into the ICW headquarters.

The door opened, and a short, rotund witch came through, pushing a cart along the row of beds. She checked each bed, occupied or not, and continued on her way. Percy assumed she was making sure the linens were clean. She waved hello to him, and left the room.

Percy took another sip of tea, left by one of the mediwizards about an hour ago. It was still just as hot as if he had taken his first sip, although the outside of the cup was cool to the touch. The tea ran down the back of his throat, and he smiled, happy at the thought of being about to taste such a simple thing like tea again.

Voices filled the corridor outside of his ward, what seemed to be almost an army. The double wooden doors flew open, and an army of Weasleys entered the ward. His mum and dad all but ran into the room, followed by Fred and George and Ginny right behind them. A boy he didnít seem to recognize held her hand. _Must be Ginís new boyfriend_, he thought to himself. _He didnít--_Percy started to think, and then Oliver Wood came into the ward. Percy knew that Oliver was uncomfortable in hospitals, having lost his brother Eli to a freak accident two years ago. His flatmate stood stiffly, glancing around, his eyes never really settling on Percy. Percy broke into a slight grin at the sight of so many people coming to see him.

ìOh Percy, weíre so glad to have you back!î his mother exclaimed, and rushed forward to pull him into a hug, wrapping her arms around him and lifting him practically off of the bed. His brothers and sister were all pouring questions into him, and he was trying to do his best to answer all of them at once, but really failing to answer any of them. 

ìWhat happened Percy?î George finally asked, his voice relieved to see him brother, even one as prattish as Percy, safe and sound.

ìI was given an assignment by the Ministry, and kidnapped,î he told them. ìLucius Malfoy is alive,î he told them, and everyone froze. Malfoy had escaped the Final Battle at Hogwarts, but had been presumed dead. ìHe kidnapped me. He thought that I knew the defensive spells for the upcoming ICW conference. I had no idea what he was talking about.î

ìDo you?î Dennis asked suddenly, and Ginny shushed him. ìNo, I donít...Dennis...Creevey, right?î Percy replied

ìYeah, thatís right,î Dennis told him with a very fake smile. ìDo you really believe that Malfoy has returned? Do you remember anything about the spells?î He sounded very eager to Percyís ears.

ìYes, I do. If it wasnít him, someone was doing a very good impression of someone with long term effects of a Bug Curse. Where are Ron, Harry and Hermione?î Percy asked, changing the subject.

ìThey said theyíd be along,î Fred said. ìThey had some paperwork to finish up.î

ìHow do you feel? The medi-wizard said that youíd had to undergo surgery.î Arthur asked his son, patting Percyís shoulder.

ìLucius used a Mind Bug on me, dad.î Percy told his father, closing his eyes, not wanting to see the reactions of his family. ìThey pulled it out before it could do too much damage, but Iíve lost some of my very early memories.î

His mother finally began to cry, still holding him. ìPercy, Iím so sorry,î she told him, rocking him. She hadnít done that in years, not since he had fallen out of that tree when he was twelve. He felt better than he had since waking up from the operation. ìCan you get them back?î

ìThe medi-wizards are keeping the bug under observation; there might be a chance they can extract some of his memories.î Ron told his family as he entered the ward, Harry and Hermione behind him.

ìGood,î his mother told him, holding his face and looking down at him. She kissed him on the cheek, and he blushed.

The Weasleys stayed by Percyís bed for nearly almost three hours. He kept stealing glances at Oliver and George, who were now standing next to each other, not touching, but clearly leaning on each other for support. Over and over again, he smiled at them, wanting to tell them it was okay, but he obviously couldnít do that. Finally the witch from earlier came in and told them that visiting hours were over, and that they could come back the next day.

His mother hadnít let him go since she got there, and reluctantly pulled away from him, kissing him one last time. Ginny gave him a one-handed hug, which he thought odd. The other hand was around Dennisís. Dennis waved goodbye, and the two of them left, whispering to themselves. Fred left with his mum and dad, after giving Percy a strong hug goodbye. Oliver and George were clearly waiting for everyone else to leave, as Harry, Hermione and Ron had left an hour ago, claiming more paperwork to do.

Once everyone else had gone, and promising that they would only be a second, George and Oliver sat close to Percy, one on each side. They looked both very serious.

ìI canít help but think you wouldnít be here right now if we hadnít of flustered you earlier,î Oliver told him, his strong hand on Percyís knee. ìWeíll try to do better, really.î

ìI donít know what we would have done had you not been rescued,î George added, his hand on top of Oliverís.

ìLook, I canít blame you. I want to, but I canít. I did some thinking this morning, and there must be a spy in the Ministry. I canít think of anything else. Donít blame yourselves either.î His voice hitched just a little bit. It was time to swallow his pride once more, bury his feelings for Oliver, and forge ahead. ìI am happy for the two of you, really. George, do not feel that you canít be over when Iím home.î It was like two huge weights came off of both George and Oliverís shoulders. They relaxed tremendously, and Percy smiled. ìCan you do me one thing though, please?î he asked, a grin forming on his face.

ìAnything Percy. Well, almost anything.î Oliver said, relieved that Percy at least somewhat approved.

ìCould you move it to the bedroom? Iíd rather not see your arse any more than I have to, Wood.î

The trio on the bed laughed, and each of them gave Percy a hug, telling him that they would move it to the bedroom. They left, and Percy was left alone. His smile faded as soon as Oliver was out of sight. He loved being so close to Oliver, and yet so very, very far away. It looked like Oliver and George were closer than ever, that in fact his abduction had brought them closer. He had made a promise to himself though, and he would keep it. Once he was home at his flat, he would tell Oliver of his feelings, regardless of the consequences, something he should have done a long time ago.

_Vienna, Austria  
Under the Hofburg, ICW Hospital Wing_

It had been a very long couple of days for Chancellor Tarna Schultz. The abduction of the Weasley boy had sent both the ICW and the British Ministry of Magic into a flurry of activity. The upcoming conference should have been protected. No one should have been in danger, and word of the transfer of the spells should not have leaked out. But it had, and she had spent the previous days at the Hofburg managing the crisis. Potterís rescue of Percy Weasley was a credit to both he and to Zinker.

She walked down the empty corridors of the ICW; most of the wizards and witches had gone home for the day. Only a very few were left on the floor. That is how she liked to think, to plan. The idea for the upcoming conference had come to her while walking these halls. The Wizarding World needed to share resources, hiding themselves ever more successfully.

She found herself at the hospital ward, and walked inside, greeting the night attendants at the oak desk. ìWhere is Percy Weasley?î she asked the graying wizard behind the desk.

ìWard 3, Chancellor,î he replied. She thanked him, and walked on, heading to the set of double doors marked ëWard 3í. Pushing them open, she looked down the long room, blue eyes scanning over the beds, until she found a redhead. He looked awake, although lost in thought.

ìMister Weasley?î she asked softly, once she was near his bed. He looked up at her, his brown eyes focusing on her. He smiled. ìMy name is Chancellor Schultz. We should have met under happier circumstances, but I am very glad for your rescue.î

He straightened up almost immediately. Almost everyone in Wizarding politics had heard of Percy Weasley; of his ambition, drive and intelligence. He was obviously impressed with meeting her. ìI apologize Chancellor, if I look a little bit worse for wear.î

ìI think thatís understandable, Mister Weasley. I understand that the documents that you brought that were recovered by Zinker and his team have been subjected to every known decoding spell. Theyíve found nothing, which is the good news for us, as Malfoy did not get his hands on those spells then.î

ìThe bad news is that you donít have the spells either,î he finished, and smiled. ìThereís a reason for that.î

ìCare to tell me what that reason is, Mister Weasley?î

ìThose documents donít mean anything. That is the reason. The spells are in my head.î

She was shocked. She knew that British Wizards were among some of the worldís best spies, and this wouldnít be the first time that spells had been transported by person, but _how?_ ìHow did Malfoy not get the spells, then?î

Percy smiled. ìBecause I didnít know I knew them. The work of mine that you read is just that, work. It was in the case when I got it. But I drank a bitter tea in the Ministerís office, and all I need to do is read the pages and I can tell you what the spells are. They must have given me a both a Forgetfulness Potion and a Decoding Potion. I didnít remember until this morning.î

Schultz sighed happily. Something else had gone right today. ìThank you Percy--may I call you Percy?î He nodded, and she continued. ìYouíve done a great service to the Wizarding World. Iíve set aside rooms in the Hofburg for you and your family to stay until after the Conference.î

ìIíve got to go back--î Percy protested, and Schultz shushed him. ìI will speak to Minister Arnold myself. Itís the least we can do after your ordeal.î

Percy beamed.

ìI will schedule a meeting between myself, Chief Zinker, and you once you are released from the hospital. I expect that will happen in the next couple of days. After, you are welcome to enjoy Vienna, and stay for the meeting of the ICW.î

ìThank you, Chancellor.î Percy told her, smiling up from his bed. ìI just hope that the meeting goes well. If there is anything that I can do for you, please let me know. I get antsy when Iím not working. Just ask Oliver.î

ìIs Oliver your boyfriend?î she asked, more out of politeness than anything else. Wizards werenít exactly squeamish about gay wizards and witches, but they were vastly more comfortable with pairs that had the natural ability to create children. There were spells, but they were expensive, and very messy. ìOh, no,î Percy cut in, a little forcefully. ìHeís my roommate.î

ìI see,î she told him, much relieved. ìWell, it is late, and Iíve still got a mountain of paperwork to do before I go home. Goodnight, Percy.î Tarna told him. He wished her goodnight, and she left the hospital ward.

The corridors were well lit, and she nodded to a wizard in work robes who was overseeing ten brooms. She thought she had seen him earlier, but dismissed it, and went on her way. She hadnít be lying to Percy - it was going to be a long night.

_Vienna, Austria  
The Streets_

Ron ran out of Harryís apartment, his ears matching the color of his hair, angry not only at himself for being so stupid, but also at Hermione. He ran down the white marble stairs, taking them two at a time, and burst out onto the street. It was a warm night, but he hardly noticed in as he started to run, away from her.

He didnít know where he was running to, or from, just that he was running away. His stupid Gryffindor bravery at telling Hermione that he still cared for her had gotten him...what? A look down towards the floor as she told him that she didnít feel the same way anymore.

So he had run out. He couldnít stand it. Percyís kidnapping and rescue had reminded him of how much he cared for her, how short life was, and how chances canít pass you by.

He was hitting his stride now, and ran into a park along the Ringstrasse, his feet pounding on the pavement, chest heaving with the rhythmic _in _and _out_ of breathing. Ron must have looked very funny to the people strolling out on this fine night, running in street clothes, his long red hair flapping behind him. He didnít care.

Stopping near the Rathaus, Ron leaned against a lamppost, catching his breath, taking in huge gulps of air. He pounded his fists against the sandstone wall in frustration - how could he have been so stupid as to think that she still wanted to be with him. It had never been a sure thing, even in seventh year. After Hogwarts, they had both wound up in the same program, and it was easy to be together. Or so heíd thought. Theyíd Bonded in a small ceremony at The Borrow two years after leaving school. Three and a half years later, they were on a break, then a separation. 

Even after everything, he still loved her with his whole being. Heíd seen her with a couple of blokes from the Ministry, but hadnít dated himself. He couldnít.

A single tear trickled down his face, and then another. He wiped them away, and stood up from the wall. Hermione stood there in front of him, looking up at him, concern showing in her brown eyes. ìRon...I...î

ìDonít say anything, Hermione, just donít say anything. I donít want to hear it,î he said angrily, turning away from her and beginning to walk away again. She grabbed his arm forcefully and twisted him towards her. He pushed her hand away, and started to walk away again. He wasnít about to listen to her anymore.

ìRonald Weasley, stop right there. Now,î she told him, in a voice that his mother would be proud of. He stopped, sighed, and turned towards her.

ìWhat do you want, Hermione? Are you going to tell me that you donít love me anymore? That you want to break our Bond?î He told her in a dangerous voice, trying to control his emotions. ìI love you, alright? Happy? I love you. I have always loved you, and I will continue to always love you. Nothing you can say to me or do to me will change that. I know Iím not perfect--Merlin, I donít know anyone who is, except maybe Professor Lupin. Hermione, you married me, warts and all, and if--î during his speech, his voice had begun to get a little bit louder, and a little faster, and he held onto Hermione like she was a life raft.

ìRon, shut up,î Hermione said, and pulled herself away. ìYou always do this! You think everything is about you, well let me tell you something Ronald Weasley, itís not. Your brother was kidnapped, and all you can think about is saving our marriage? Well, forget that, itís over. For good. I will get someone to unbound us as soon as weíre back in Britain.î

ìHermione--Hermione--stop, please,î he pleaded with her as she turned her back and began to walk away. His life, his love wasnít stopping. ìPlease?î He asked quietly, and she turned, her curly hair pulled back into a tight bun behind her. The light from the street lamp caught her face, and he saw a tear escape from her eye and fall down her cheek. 

ìRon, I canít do this anymore. I want to move on with my life. I thought you were the man of my dreams, but you arenít.î

He froze. Hermione had said something to him like this when sheíd first moved out over a year ago, but he hadnít responded. Sheíd left, and they were in this situation now.

ìHermione, listen to me. I want you to--î

ìHermione! Ron!î Harryís voice rang through the park as he raced towards them, hand gripping his wand in his pocket. He caught up to them and pulled out an old theatre pamphlet. He and Hermione both looking at Harry in confusion. They had no idea what was going on. ìWeíve got to get back to ICW headquarters. Percyís been attacked!î Ron looked at Hermione, fear etched suddenly in his face, and gripped the Portkey first, as if to say that he wasnít just thinking of himself. Moments after she grabbed it, the Portkey activated, and he felt the very familiar sensation of being pulled by his navel.

_Vienna, Austria  
Under the Hofburg, ICW Hospital Wing_

Dennis Creevey smiled to himself as the Chancellor of the ICW passed by him. His eyes shot daggers at her back, and he stuck his hand into the pocket of the work robes he was wearing to stop himself from pulling out his wand and striking her dead. Striking them all dead. Lucius had promised.

It was all too easy to ditch the clueless Weasleysí, and tell them that he wanted to take a walk around the Hofburg before it closed. Percy would be dead before the night was out, and the spells that protected the ICW would be in Luciusís hands. He would be rewarded when the new order arrived, and would be able to take his revenge on the world that said that he was somehow less because of his blood.

The ICW was eerily silent as he watched the brooms sweep across the black stone tile floor, cleaning the small layer of dust that had collected over the course of the day. When Lucius took over, this would be a pile of rubble, with power centered in London. He looked around, watching for signs of any of the other workers. There were none, and Dennis left the brooms behind, making his way down the corridors towards Percy.

Hearing voices just before he entered the hospital ward, he ducked into a small closet and closed the door. The room smelled of garlic. His eyes started to run as he waited for whoever it was to walk past them. He did not want any interruptions. 

Finally, they passed by, and he snuck out of the closet. He looked both ways, noticing nothing, and silently made his way into the ward. The wizard at the desk looked up, gray eyes boring into him, but he pointed to the bucket that he carried, and shrugged. The wizard ignored him, and wouldnít be able to recognize him even if he had studied his face closely, as heíd cast an Obscuring Charm on himself before beginning to sweep.

Dennis pushed the set of heavy double doors open, and took in the sight before him. Twenty beds were on either side of a central corridor, most empty. His target lay a little more than two thirds of the way down the right row, and he started to move confidently towards him. Percy was sleeping, his back towards Dennis, which made it all the better. 

Dennis moved towards the bed, standing over Percy and whispered into his ear ìWake up Weasley. Lucius wants to finish that little chat,î. Percy rolled over, his eyes going wide in fear. Dennis loved to see that, and pressed his wand under Percyís nose. ìWhat do you remember, Weasley?î

Percy shook a little bit, but gathered his courage and replied ìNothing. I remember nothing.î

ìYou lie! _Crucio! Silencio!_î Dennis whispered, pouring his hate into each spell. Percy began to thrash around, his mouth open in a silent scream, fingernails gripping Dennisís arm. ìYou will never be able to escape us, do you understand. Tell me what you know, and this will all be over.î

Tears poured down Percyís face as he continued to scream silently, begging Dennis to stop. Suddenly the dimly lit room burst into light, and a siren began to wail. He stopped casting the spells, cursing his luck, and Disapparated from the ward, leaving only Percy sobbing and taking huge gasps of air.

He Apparated into the room that he and Ginny were sharing. She was waiting for him, perfectly motionless. ìYou will have to get those spells yourself, Weasley. My Master needs them.î Ginny nodded once, blue eyes fixed only on Dennis, looking at him in adoration. A man could get used to that, he thought to himself, bringing his lips to hers.

A peck at the small window they had before heíd pulled off Ginnyís shirt brought him up from caressing her. She remained in position while he went to the window, pulled it open, letting in the cool air. The owl stuck itís leg out, and he took the rolled parchment and undid it.

The word ëArticleí was written on the yellow paper, and Dennis smiled. Lucius knew what was going on, and how he could get the codes. Throwing the parchment into the air and setting it on fire, he began to instruct Ginny in what her role in all of this was going to be.

_Vienna, Austria  
Under the Hofburg, ICW Hospital Wing_

ìZinker, how did the assailant escape?î Schultz asked, gripping her Security Chiefsí arm strongly. She had been in her office only around a half of an hour before alarm went off, sending a pile of reports to the ground. Zinker had been at the scene when she arrived, and the medical staff hovered around Percy, ensuring that he was recovering. Tarna had pulled Zinker away from the scene and into the corridor, and they whispered back and forth.

ìHe Disapparated.î Zinker said simply, and Schultzís eyebrows raised. ìHow is that possible?î She asked. ìWeíve got wards against that, and--î

ìThose wards only take effect if thereís been an attack. You canít Apparate in, but you can Disapparate. They must have heard the alarm, and left before the spell took effect.î

ìThat needs to change,î she told him forcefully, and pointed to where Percy lay. ìWe almost lost a representative of the British Ministry of Magic. They are some of our key allies to strengthen the ICW. I want nothing more to happen to Percy.î She told him, and pushed on his chest to make her point.

ìYes, Chancellor.î Zinker replied, and turned towards the sound of feet rushing towards them. ìOnce I learned of the nature of the attack, I sent Potter to collect our other British guests. Iíll assign Potter to protect Weasley until he is out of the hospital.î

ìThank you.î She sighed, relieved. It was comforting to know that although Percy had been attacked, with Potter protecting him, nothing would happen again. Percy was too important.

ìIs my brother alright?î The redhead, Ron Weasley, asked towering above her, and leaning a little bit on the girl, Hermione Granger-Weasley.

ìYes, your brother has his full memory, and has passed all psychoanalytical tests we know. The _Cructacious_ curse was used, but not for long enough to cause damage. He was very lucky. Another few minutes, and he would not have been able to recover,î a thin witch coming out of the ward said.

ìCan we see him?î Potter asked, and the witch shook her head. ìNo. Let him rest overnight. He needs sleep more than anything. I will allow guards to be posted at the entrances to the ward however.î

ìRight, Potter, Granger at this end, and myself and Weasley will head to the other.î Zinker cut in, dividing the tasks. ìLetís go. Goodnight, Chancellor.î

The four of them moved off. She bowed her head, and went back to her office. Tomorrowís meeting was now even more critical. They _had_ to get that information from Percy.

A/N: Please take a moment to review ìDarkness Risingî. What you liked, didnít like, whatever. Doesnít take more than a couple of minutes, and would mean a ton to me. Many thanks to my beta Tabitha, for all that she does. :) If you want to receive updates on ìDarkness Risingî including cookies of upcoming chapters, please leave your e-mail address in your review

A/N II: Please note that a new chapter of ìDarkness Risingî probabbly wonít appear until after the New Year. Finals are gearing up, and I have several major papers due in the next couple of weeks, and this is my last saved chapter. I plan to write furiously though while I am on break, so we should resume the ëtwice a monthí schedule in January. But check back to my author page anyway. Because you never know. ;)


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